“Lend me that, will you?” said Jane persuasively to the man with the megaphone at the entrance to the enclosure.

He was, quite properly, a very loud man, with a loud thick voice, a loud purple face, and a loud grey suit.  To Audrey’s astonishment, he smiled and winked, and gave up the megaphone at once.

Audrey paid sixpence at the turnstile, admittance for two persons, and they were within the temple, which had a roof like an umbrella over the central, revolving portion of it, but which was somewhat open to the skies around the rim.  There were two concentric enclosing walls, the inner one was unscalable, and the outer one about five feet six inches high.  A second loud man was calling out:  “Couples please.  Ladies and gentlemen.  Couples if you please.”  Obediently, numbers of the crowd disposed themselves in pairs in the attitudes of close affection on the circling floor which had just come to rest, while the remainder of the numerous gathering gazed upon them with sarcastic ecstasy.  Then the wheel began slowly to turn, and girls to shriek in the plenitude of happiness.  And progress was proved geometrically.

Jane, bearing the megaphone, slipped by an aperture into the space between the two walls, and Audrey followed.  Nobody gave attention to them except the second loud man, who winked the wink of knowledge.  The fact was that both the loud men, being unalterable Tories, had been very willing to connive at Jane Foley’s scheme for the affliction of a Radical Minister.

The two girls over the wall had an excellent and appetising view of the upper part of the side of the Imperial Hall, and of its high windows, the nearest of which was scarcely thirty feet away.

“Hold this, will you?” said Jane, handing the megaphone to Audrey.

Jane drew from its concealment in her dress a small piece of iron to which was attached a coloured streamer bearing certain words.  She threw, with a strong movement of the left arm, because she was left-handed.  She had practised throwing; throwing was one of her several specialties.  The bit of iron, trailing its motto like a comet its tail, flew across space and plumped into the window with a pleasing crash and disappeared, having triumphed over uncounted police on the outskirts and a hundred and fifty stewards within.  A roar from the interior of the hall supervened, and varied cries.

“Give me the meg,” said Jane gently.

The next instant she was shouting through the megaphone, an instrument which she had seriously studied: 

“Votes for women.  Why do you torture women?  Votes for women.  Why do you torture women?”

The uproar increased and subsided.  A masterful voice resounded within the interior.  Many people rushed out of the hall.  And there was a great scurry of important and puzzled feet within a radius of a score of yards.

“I think I’ll try the next window,” said Jane, handing over the megaphone.  “You shout while I throw.”