‘Tell me, my boy. Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. 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. Beneath that tree let us lie. You won’t want to be late the first evening, and it’s ten minutes past seven now.
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