Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere. "So she got away as far as this, eh? But where does she come in?" The doctor recounted that side of the tale. “Your name and address were upon an envelope found in the pocket of an Englishman who was brought here late last night suffering from serious injuries,” he said in a dry official tone. He wants you—or he doesn’t; and then he helps some other woman against you. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall.
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