"Didn't think of it at the time," said Mr. Boxer. "One thing is, I was
very busy at Sydney, looking for a ship. However, I'm 'ere now."

"I always felt you'd turn up some day," said Mrs. Gimpson. "I felt
certain of it in my own mind. Mary made sure you was dead, but I said
'no, I knew better.'"

There was something in Mrs. Gimpson's manner of saying this that
impressed her listeners unfavourably. The impression was deepened when,
after a short, dry laugh _a propos_ of nothing, she sniffed again--three
times.

"Well, you turned out to be right," said Mr. Boxer, shortly.

"I gin'rally am," was the reply; "there's very few people can take me
in."

She sniffed again.

"Were the natives kind to you?" inquired Mrs. Boxer, hastily, as she
turned to her husband.

"Very kind," said the latter. "Ah! you ought to have seen that island.
Beautiful yellow sands and palm-trees; cocoa-nuts to be 'ad for the
picking, and nothing to do all day but lay about in the sun and swim in
the sea."

"Any public-'ouses there?" inquired Mrs. Gimpson.