y compliments, I shall be
obliged if he will look in here. And, Purdy, see to it that that cheque
is attended to. Mrs. Paliser will give you her address."

"But, Mr. Dunwoodie!" Cassy exclaimed again, as the sallow youth went
out.

To distract her attention, instantly Jones improvised a limerick. "There
was a young man named Purdy, who was not what you'd call very sturdy. To
be more of a sport, he drank gin by the quart, and danced on a
hurdy-gurdy."

"You're insane," announced Cassy, who was a trifle demented herself.

Dunwoodie extracted his towel. "Jeroloman is the attorney for the other
side. He will want to meet Mrs. Paliser, but that honour will not be his
to-day."

Cassy stood up. "I should hope not. He would be the last camel on the
straw--I mean the last straw on the camel."

Dunwoodie, rising also, gave her his fine bow and to Jones a hand.

Then as the two made for the door, from over her shoulder she smiled
back at him.

"My grandmother could not have been nicer."

"What do you mean by that?" Jones absently inquired.

But, in the rotunda now, Mr. Purdy was asking her address. If he had
dared he would have followed her there. Fortune favouring, he would have
followed her to the ends of the earth. It was what one of our allies
calls the thunderbolt. Never before had he beheld such a face. Earnestly
he prayed that he might behold it again. Allah is great. The prayer was
granted.

In the canon below, Jones, as he piloted her to the subway, pulled at
his gloves.

"If I had the ability, I would write an opera, call it 'Danae' and
offer you the title-role."

Cassy, her thoughts on her grandmother, repeated it. "Danae?"

"Yes, the lady disconnected by marriage with Jupiter who tubbed her in
gold--gold ink, I suppose. But as I am not a composer I shall put you
between the sheets--of a novel I mean. Fiction has its consolations."

But now, leaving the canon, they entered a cavern which a tunnel fluted.
There Cassy looked up at the inkbeast. "How is Mr. Lennox? Do you see
him?"

"I find it very difficult not to. Unattached people are sticky as
flies. When Lennox was engaged, he was invisible. Now he is all over the
place."

From the tunnel a train erupted. It came with the belch of a monstrous
beetle, red-eyed and menacing, hastening terribly to some horrible task.

Jones, shoving the girl into its bowels, added: "I was happier when he
was jugged."

A corner beckoned. There, as the beetle resu