“You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. But they did what they could for her. "We must change the subject," remarked Thornhill, pausing in his task; "this will never do. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. I wonder——” He turned slowly round. He has a very summary mode of dealing with refractory persons, I assure you. Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off. From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses.
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