And then there had to be a further delay, which need not be reported. For those who have lost their hearts know all about these things, and those who haven’t don’t deserve to be told. . . .
But at last he had to let her go, so he kissed her again and then took her hand and kissed that. And afterwards he took her shoulders and squared them up, and drew himself up in front of her.
“Soldier’s wives, Pat!” he commanded. “Cheerio—and the best of luck!”
“Cheerio, Saint!” she answered. “God bless you. . . .”
She flung him a brave smile, and turned and walked off down the hill with Orace ambling behind like a faithful dog. Just before the path led her round a bend and out of sight she stopped and waved her handkerchief, and the Saint waved back. Then she was gone, and he wondered if he would ever see her again.
He went back into the Pill Box, took off his coat, rolled up his left sleeve, and strapped Anna securely to his forearm. That was for emergencies; but now that the Tiger knew all about Anna the Saint had to rummage in his bag for her twin sister, and this dangerous woman he fixed to his left calf in a similar manner, where it would be quite likely to be overlooked if he were caught and searched. He made sure that he had his first-aid cigarette case in his hip pocket, and as an afterthought added to the kit a telescopic rod of the finest steel with a claw at one end.
As a final precaution, he sat down and scribbled a note:
If I don’t turn up by seven-thirty look for me at the Old House—the place behind the village that used to be an inn. Failing that, try Bloem’s or Bittle’s. Don’t go to Carn till you’ve drawn blank at all those three places. And BE CAREFUL. If they get me they’ll be on the look out for you.
This he folded, addressed to Orace, and left in a conspicuous position in the kitchen, where his man would be sure to find it when he returned.
Then the Saint went swinging down the track towards the village.