The Saint Sees it Through

by Charteris Leslie

"Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me. I had nothing to do with it. But they are pretty. I hope your husband appreciates them. So many don't."

The Saint said nothing. He wanted to watch.

"I think he appreciates them," Avalon murmured. "Don't you, dear?"

Simon smiled.

"So many don't," Mrs. Meldon said. "You can pour yourself into a sheer tube of a dress, like mine, and a husband will look at you, glance at his watch, and give you hell for being thirty minutes late. My God, how do men expect us to make ourselves — Oh, here are the drinks. Name your poison."

When they had drinks, Mrs. Meldon gave the Saint a slow smile.

"Well, Mr. Researcher, what now?"

"I have been assigned to find out what I can about Dr. Ernst Zellermann. We're going to pick a Doc of the Year. No slowpoke, medicine, you know."

Mrs. Meldon stared at him.