CHAPTER VI. 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. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. But though he made Blueskin and Kettleby his chief marks, he missed both. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. She noticed right away that Sheila was a two-sided coin. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck.
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