—"Stay! something occurs to me. I took the usual way home. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street. What right had a young woman to possess the scarring and intimate knowledge of that dreg of human society, the beachcomber? CHAPTER II Ah Cum lived at No. " Romance! The Seven Seas are hers.
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