A light went up in the scullery window, of which the blind was drawn. The man peeped at the sides of the blind. Then the scullery door was opened. The man started. A piece of wood was thrown out on to the floor of the area, and the door swung outwards. Then the light in the scullery was extinguished. The man waited a few moments. He had noticed that the door was not quite closed, and the interstice irresistibly fascinated him. He approached and put his hand against the door. It yielded. He entered. The next instant there was a bang and a cry, and a strong spray of white liquid appeared, in the middle of which was the man's head. The door slammed and a bolt was shot. The man, spluttering, coughing, and swearing, rubbed his eyes and wiped water from his face with his hands. His hat was on the ground. At first he could not see at all, but presently he felt his way towards the steps and began to climb them. Audrey ran off towards the corner. She could see and hear him shaking the gate and then trying to get a key into it. But as Audrey had left her key in the other side of the lock, he failed in the attempt. The next thing was that a window opened in the high wall-face of the house and an immense stream of liquid descended full on the man's head. Susan Foley was at the window, but only the nozzle of the extinguisher could be seen. The man tried to climb over the railings; he did not succeed; they had been especially designed to prevent such feats. He ran down the steps. The shower faithfully followed him. In no corner of his hiding did the bountiful 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."