[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.The incident of those lemon-coloured gloves was adistinct encouragement.It showed a certain thoroughness on the part of theopposition, and that sort of thing always gave the Saint great pleasure."If one glove doesn't work, the other is expected to oblige," he figured itout, as he popped studs into a snowy white dress shirt."And it would be apity to disappoint anyone."He elaborated this latter idea to Patricia Holm when he rejoined her at theBerkeley, having shaken off his official watcher again by Method Three.Beforehe left, he told her nearly everything."At midnight, all the dreams of the ungodly are coming true," he said."Picture to yourself the scene.It will be the witching hour.The menace ofdark deeds will veil the stars.And up the heights of Hampstead will cometoiling the pitiful figure of the unsuspecting victim, with his bleary eyesbulging and his mouth hanging open and the green moss sprouting behind hisears; and that will be Little Boy."Chapter VSome men enjoy trouble; others just as definitely don't.And there are somewho enjoy dreaming about the things they would do if they only dared- but theyneed not concern us.Simon Templar came into Category A straight and slick, with his name in apanel all to itself, and a full stop just where it hits hardest.For there is a price ticket on everything that puts a whizz into life, andadventure follows the rule.It's distressing, but there you are.If there wasno competition, everything would be quite all right.If you could be certainthat you were the strongest man in the world, the most quick-witted, the mostcunning, the most keen-sighted, the most vigilant, and simulta-neously thepossessor of the one and only lethal weapon in the whole wide universe, therewouldn't be much difficulty about it.You would just step out of your hutchand hammer the first thing that came along.Page 48 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlBut it doesn't always pan out like that in practice.When you try the medicineon the dog, you are apt to discover some violent reactions which were notarranged for in the prescrip-tion.And then, when the guns give tongue and aspot of fur begins to fly, you are liable to arrive at the sudden andsoul-shattering realisation that a couple of ounces of lead travelling with agiven velocity will make precisely as deep an impression on your anatomicalsystem as they will on that of the next man.Which monumental fact the Saint had thoroughly digested a few days aftermastering his alphabet.And the effect it had registered upon his unweanedpeace of mind had been so near to absolute zero that a hair-line could nothave been drawn between them neither on the day of the discovery nor on anysubsequent day in all his life.In theory.In theory, of course, he allowed the artillery to pop, and the fur to becomevolatile, without permitting a single lock of his own sleek dark hair toaberrate from the patent-leather disci-pline in which he disposed it; andthereby he became the Saint.But it is perfectly possible to appreciate andacknowl-edge the penetrating unpleasantness of high-velocity lead, andforthwith to adopt a debonairly philosophical attitude towards the same,without being in a tearing hurry to offer your own carcase for the purpose ofpractical demonstration; this also the Saint did, and by doing it withmeticulous attention con-trived to be spoken of in the present tense for manyyears longer than the most optimistic insurance broker would have backed himto achieve.All of which has not a little to do with 85, Vandemeer Avenue, Hampstead.Down this road strolled the Saint, his hands deep in the pockets ofknife-edged trousers, the crook of his walking-stick hooked over his leftwrist, and slanting sidelong over his right eye a filbustering black felt hatwhich alone was something very like a breach of the peace.A little songrollicked on his lips, and was inaudible two yards away.And as he walked, hislazy eyes absorbed every interesting item of the scenery."Aspidistra, little herb,Do you think it sillyWhen the botaniser's blurbLinks you with the lily?"Up in one window of the house, he caught the almost imperceptible sway of ashifting curtain, and knew that his approach had already been observed."Butit is nice," thought the Saint, "to be expected [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.The incident of those lemon-coloured gloves was adistinct encouragement.It showed a certain thoroughness on the part of theopposition, and that sort of thing always gave the Saint great pleasure."If one glove doesn't work, the other is expected to oblige," he figured itout, as he popped studs into a snowy white dress shirt."And it would be apity to disappoint anyone."He elaborated this latter idea to Patricia Holm when he rejoined her at theBerkeley, having shaken off his official watcher again by Method Three.Beforehe left, he told her nearly everything."At midnight, all the dreams of the ungodly are coming true," he said."Picture to yourself the scene.It will be the witching hour.The menace ofdark deeds will veil the stars.And up the heights of Hampstead will cometoiling the pitiful figure of the unsuspecting victim, with his bleary eyesbulging and his mouth hanging open and the green moss sprouting behind hisears; and that will be Little Boy."Chapter VSome men enjoy trouble; others just as definitely don't.And there are somewho enjoy dreaming about the things they would do if they only dared- but theyneed not concern us.Simon Templar came into Category A straight and slick, with his name in apanel all to itself, and a full stop just where it hits hardest.For there is a price ticket on everything that puts a whizz into life, andadventure follows the rule.It's distressing, but there you are.If there wasno competition, everything would be quite all right.If you could be certainthat you were the strongest man in the world, the most quick-witted, the mostcunning, the most keen-sighted, the most vigilant, and simulta-neously thepossessor of the one and only lethal weapon in the whole wide universe, therewouldn't be much difficulty about it.You would just step out of your hutchand hammer the first thing that came along.Page 48 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlBut it doesn't always pan out like that in practice.When you try the medicineon the dog, you are apt to discover some violent reactions which were notarranged for in the prescrip-tion.And then, when the guns give tongue and aspot of fur begins to fly, you are liable to arrive at the sudden andsoul-shattering realisation that a couple of ounces of lead travelling with agiven velocity will make precisely as deep an impression on your anatomicalsystem as they will on that of the next man.Which monumental fact the Saint had thoroughly digested a few days aftermastering his alphabet.And the effect it had registered upon his unweanedpeace of mind had been so near to absolute zero that a hair-line could nothave been drawn between them neither on the day of the discovery nor on anysubsequent day in all his life.In theory.In theory, of course, he allowed the artillery to pop, and the fur to becomevolatile, without permitting a single lock of his own sleek dark hair toaberrate from the patent-leather disci-pline in which he disposed it; andthereby he became the Saint.But it is perfectly possible to appreciate andacknowl-edge the penetrating unpleasantness of high-velocity lead, andforthwith to adopt a debonairly philosophical attitude towards the same,without being in a tearing hurry to offer your own carcase for the purpose ofpractical demonstration; this also the Saint did, and by doing it withmeticulous attention con-trived to be spoken of in the present tense for manyyears longer than the most optimistic insurance broker would have backed himto achieve.All of which has not a little to do with 85, Vandemeer Avenue, Hampstead.Down this road strolled the Saint, his hands deep in the pockets ofknife-edged trousers, the crook of his walking-stick hooked over his leftwrist, and slanting sidelong over his right eye a filbustering black felt hatwhich alone was something very like a breach of the peace.A little songrollicked on his lips, and was inaudible two yards away.And as he walked, hislazy eyes absorbed every interesting item of the scenery."Aspidistra, little herb,Do you think it sillyWhen the botaniser's blurbLinks you with the lily?"Up in one window of the house, he caught the almost imperceptible sway of ashifting curtain, and knew that his approach had already been observed."Butit is nice," thought the Saint, "to be expected [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]