"Hullo! Miss Jemima--Smithers, I mean; what on earth are you doing here ?" "I am going to New Zealand, Mr.Meeson," she answered sharply; "and I certainly did not expect to have the pleasure of your company on the voyage." "Going to New Zealand," he said, "are you?
Why, so am I; at least, I am going there first, then to Australia.

What do you mean to do there--try and run round our little agreement, eh?
It won't be any good, I tell you plainly.

We have our agents in New Zealand, and a house in Australia, and if you try to get the better of Meeson's there, Meeson's will be even with you, Miss Smithers--Oh, Heavens! I feel as though I were coming to pieces." "Don't alarm yourself, Mr.Meeson," she answered, "I am not going to publish any more books at present." "That is a pity," he said, "because your stuff is good selling stuff.

Any publisher would find money in it.

I suppose you are second-class, Miss Smithers, so we shan't see much of each other; and, perhaps, if we should meet, it might be as well if we didn't seem to have any acquaintance.