tiful spray neglect him. As soon as one supply of liquid slackened
another commenced. Sometimes there were two at once. The man ran up the
steps again and made another effort to reach the safety of the street.
Audrey could restrain herself no more. She came, palpitating with joyous
vitality, towards the area gate with the innocent mien of a passer-by.

"Whatever is the matter?" she exclaimed, stopping as if thunderstruck. But
in the gloom her eyes were dancing fires. She was elated as she had never
been.

The man only coughed.

"You oughtn't to take shower-baths like this in the street," she said,
veiling the laughter in her voice. "It's not allowed. But I suppose you're
doing it for a bet or something."

The downpour ceased.

"Here, miss," said he, between coughs, "unlock this gate for me. Here's the
key."

"I shall do no such thing," Audrey replied. "I believe you're a burglar. I
shall fetch a policeman."

And she turned back.

In the house, Miss Ingate was coming slowly down the stairs, a
fire-extinguisher in her arms, like a red baby. She had a sardonic smile,
but there was diffidence in it, which showed, perhaps, that it was directed
within.

"I've saved one," she said, pointing to an extinguisher, "in case there
should be a fire in the night."

A little later Susan Foley appeared at the door of the living-room.

"Nine o'clock," she announced calmly. "Supper's ready. We shan't wait for
Jane."

When Jane Foley arrived, a reconnaissance proved that the martyrised
detective had contrived to get away.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE BLUE CITY

In the following month, on a Saturday afternoon, Audrey, Miss Ingate, and
Jane Foley were seated at an open-air cafe in the Blue City.

The Blue City, now no more, was, as may be remembered, Birmingham's reply
to the White City of London, and the imitative White City of Manchester.
Birmingham, in that year, was not imitative, and, with its chemical
knowledge, it had discovered that certain shades of blue would resist the
effects of smoke far more successfully than any shade of white. And
experience even showed that these shades of blue were improved, made more
delicate and romantic, by smoke. The total impression of the show--which it
need hardly be said was situated in the polite Edgbaston district--was
ethereal, especially when its minarets and towers, all in accordance with
the taste of the period, were beheld from a distance. Nor was the
exhibition entirely de