"He sails to-morrow morning in the very vessel by which I start," replied Jack. I’ve been smoking cigarettes in the preparation-room and thinking this out. He personated over there a millionaire named Meysey Hill, and it seems that he induced Annabel to go through some sort of marriage with him at the Embassy. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. And Pottiswick, of course. Jack instandly extinguished the light, and called to his comrade to come after him. I must have been very wound up. Drink for him had a queer phase.
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