“He who hesitates,” said the Saint sententiously, “is bossed. No mughopper will ever spiel this baby.”
They talked politics and literature through supper (the Saint had original and heretical views on both subjects) as dispassionately as the most ordinary men, met together in the most ordinary circumstances, might have done.
After Orace had served coffee and withdrawn, Carn produced a cigar-case and offered it to the Saint. Templar looked, and shook his head with a smile.
“Not even with you, dear heart,” he said, and Carn was aggrieved.
“There’s nothing wrong with them.”
“I’m so glad you haven’t wasted a cigar, then.”
“If I give you my word——”
“I’ll take it. But I won’t take your cigars.”
Carn shrugged, took one himself and lighted it. The Saint settled himself more comfortably in his arm-chair.
“I’m glad to see you don’t pack a gun yourself,” observed the Doctor presently.