"Thank you," said the Saint. "But you don't want to be so violent, Basher. One day you'll break some of the crockery, and then your boss will be very angry. He might even call you a naughty boy, Basher, and then you'll go away into a quiet corner and weep, and that would be very distressing for all concerned."

Basher Tope was moved to further criticisms of the police force and their manners, but Simon took no further notice of him, and after glaring sullenly at the detective for some moments. Tope turned on his heel and shuffled out again.

The Saint was skinning the top of his second egg when the door opened and a girl came in. She was wearing a plain tweed costume, and Simon thought at once that she must be the loveliest thing that had ever walked into that sombre room. He rose at once.

"Good-morning," he said politely. "I'm afraid I've pinched part of your table, but the cup smasher who attends to these things couldn't be bothered to lay another place for me."

She come up hesitantly, staring at him in bewilderment. She saw a tall, broad-shouldered young man, with twinkling blue eyes, smooth dark hair, and the most engaging smile she had ever seen in her life. Simon, modestly realizing that her amazement at seeing him was pardonable, bore her scrutiny without embarrassment.

"Who are you?" she asked at length,

The Saint waved her to a chair, and she sat down opposite him. Then he resumed his own seat and the assault on the second egg.

"Me? . . . Professor Smith, at your service. If you want to call me by my first name, it's Rameses. The well-known Egyptian Pharaoh of the same label was named after me."

"I'm sorry," she said at once. "I must have seemed awfully rude. But we--I mean, I wasn't expecting to see a stranger here."

"Naturally," agreed the Saint conversationally. "One's never expecting to see strangers, is one? Especially of the name of Smith. But I'm the original Smith. Look for the trade-mark on every genuine article, and refuse all imitations."