Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. Queer world. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive. I’ve muddled all this business. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are.
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