When he had clambered to the embankment, he turned to see his four friends waving at him from the bridge.
“Goodbye folks!” he shouted, “I’m going home for my dress suit.”
Then, realizing they could not hear, he grasped his damp coat tail, gave it a wringing twist, threw up his hands, pointed to the spot where city lights gleamed, and marched away. “Forty above!” he was grumbling again. “No night for a plunge.”
Then as his mood changed, he began to sing, “Goodbye Fair! Goodbye Paree! Goodbye boys! Goodbye girls! Goodbye everybody! I’m going home to my Mom-ee!”
As for the lady spy, she had lost herself for good and all. In a crowd of three hundred thousand you might hope to meet anyone once, but never twice.
CHAPTER XI
GOODBYE FAIR
Rosemary, Florence, Jeanne and Danby did not leave the Fair grounds at once. Indeed they could not because of the crush. They did turn their faces toward the exit.
As they pressed their way out of the dense throngs to a spot where there was at least space for breathing, their eyes were greeted by strange sights.
Off to the right a group of thoughtless revelers were tearing up a hedge. Some were carrying away the shrubs as souvenirs, others were using them as mock-weapons for beating one another over the back.
From a village where imitation towers reared themselves to the sky came cries of laughter and screams of distress. Presently a throng broke through the flimsy walls and came pouring out. They had gone too far in their vandalism. The firemen had thrown a cooling stream of water on their heated brows.