“And suppose I meet those police on the way out, what am I to say to them?” asked Miss Ingate when Jane Foley and Aguilar had departed.

“If they’re very curious, tell them you’ve been here to have tea with me and that Aguilar cut the bread-and-butter,” Audrey replied.  “The detective will be interested to see me.  He chased me all the way to London not long since.  Au revoir, Winnie.”

“Dear friend,” said Madame Piriac, with admirable though false calm.  “Would it not be more prudent to fly back at once to the yacht—­if in truth this is the same police agent of whom you recounted to me with such drollness the exploits?  It is not that I am afraid——­”

“Nor I,” said Audrey.  “There is no danger except to Jane Foley.”

“Ah!  You cannot abandon her.  That is true.  Nevertheless I regret ...”

“Well, darling,” Audrey exclaimed.  “You would insist on my coming!”

The continuing presence of Miss Ingate, who had lost one glove and her purse, rendered this brief conversation somewhat artificial.  And no sooner had Miss Ingate got away—­by the window, for the sake of dispatch—­than a bell made itself heard, and Aguilar came back to the drawing-room in the role of butler.

“Inspector Keeble and a gentleman to see you, madam.”

“Bring them in,” said Audrey.

Aguilar’s secret glance at Inspector Keeble as he brought in the visitors showed that his lifelong and harmless enemy had very little to hope from his goodwill.

“Wait a moment, you!” called the detective as Aguilar, like a perfect butler, was vanishing.  “Good afternoon, ladies.  Excuse me, I wish to question this man.”  He indicated Aguilar with a gesture of apologising for Aguilar.

Inspector Keeble, an overgrown mass of rectitude and kindliness, greeted Audrey with that constraint which always afflicted him when he was beneath any roof more splendid than that of his own police-station.

“Now, Aguilar,” said the detective, “it’s you that’ll be telling me.  Ye’ve got a woman concealed in the house.  Where is she?”

He knew, then, this ferreting and divinatory Irishman!  Of course Miss Ingate must have committed some indiscretion, or was it that Aguilar was less astute than he gave the impression of being?  Audrey considered that all was lost, and she was aware of a most unpleasant feeling of helplessness and inefficiency.  Then she seemed to receive inspiration and optimism from somewhere.  She knew not exactly from where, but perhaps it was from the shy stiffness of the demeanour of her old acquaintance, Inspector Keeble.  Moreover, the Irishman’s twinkling eyes were a challenge to her.

“Oh!  Aguilar!” she exclaimed.  “I’m very sorry to hear this.  I knew women were always your danger, but I never dreamt you would start carrying on in my absence.”