“You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. "Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses. Contenting himself with brandishing the weapon in the Jew's eyes, he exerted all his force to prevent him from rising. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. "Is your person in danger?" "Not from my creditors," replied Wood, significantly. Wood's house was broken into and plundered. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black.
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