"Not here," he said decisively. "We don't know who the next caller may be, and in any case we don't want Humpty and Dumpty waking up and hearing you. If any of the ungodly got the idea that you were talking to me at all, they might find a whole new interest in your health. And I'd rather not have to hold my next interview with you in a morgue."
Her eyes widened as she looked at him.
"You mean you think somebody might try to harm me?"
"There have been instances," said the Saint, with considerable patience, "where persons who knew too much, in this life of sin, have been harmed — some of them quite permanently."
"But he — I mean, this man wouldn't hurt me. You see, he's in love with me."
"I don't altogether blame him," said the Saint agreeably. "And I'm sure he would weep bitterly while he cut your throat."
He closed the valise quickly, hefted it again, and took her arm with his other hand.
"Let's go," he said.
She raised herself slowly from the bed.
"Where?"