“You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants. On his appearance, Jack levelled a pistol at his head. He rested on one elbow. "I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. "You are giving that chap the boot rather suddenly?" "Had to.
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