“No, but it sounds awfully good. I’m thinking of including it in the great speech I shall deliver one of these days at the Old Bailey.” “What did you want from Reggie?” he asked. “You are almost monotonous,” she laughed. “Well, I wanted information.” She turned and again he saw that bright light in her eye and that eager look in her face. “I will tell you, Michael Pretherston,” she said, pointing a white finger toward him. “We will play fair. I am going to do a big thing. I am going to make the most wonderful steal that the world has ever known. That is why I found Reggie. That is why I made a martyr of myself and endured the boredom of Lord Flanborough’s society.” She clapped her hands like a child. “It’s a big thing, Michael, but it’s full of complications, wonderfully full of strategy, and I am going to do it all with your assistance.” He jumped up and flung out his hand. “Put it there, Kate,” he said. “This is going to be the big thing for both of us and I am going to be the victor. If you win you have whatever you’re after. If I win, you have me,” she said with a little laugh. He looked at her in silence. “I can almost see you gripping my arm and pushing me into the steel pen,” she said. “I can see you sitting in court in a brown--no, a blue--overcoat, with your hat nicely balanced on your knees, looking up at me in the dock and wondering how I am going to take it.” A cloud passed over his face. “You’re a pessimistic little devil,” he growled. “No, I wasn’t thinking about that.” “What were you thinking about?” she asked, her eyes wide open in surprise. “I was thinking I’d marry you,” he said. She looked at him in amusement. “You’re mad, aren’t you?” “Yes,” he said; “didn’t you know?” “Marry you!” she said scornfully. “Great Heavens!” “You might do worse,” he said with his cheerful smile. “Can you name anything I could do that would be more hopelessly degrading than marry a policeman?” “Yes,” he said, “you might be an old maid and keep cats. You take it for granted, of course,” he went on, “that I am letting you go now.” “Naturally,” she replied, “I have given you something to live for.” “You may be right,” he said quietly and opened the door for her. They walked down the felt covered passage to the front door. “I owe you something,” she said as they stood in the doorway. “The young man from the South nearly put an end to my promising career.” “A little thing like that is hardly worth mentioning. Good night, Kate, are you sure it is safe for you to be out alone so late?” She made a little face at him and went tripping down the stairs. She turned into the street, but had not gone two paces when a hand caught her arm. “Excuse me,” said a voice. By the light of a street lamp she recognized her captor as a detective sergeant from Scotland Yard. Before she could protest a voice spoke from the darkness of the balcony above and it was the voice of Michael. “All right, sergeant,” he said.