Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. “I’m only arguing against your position of what a woman should be, and trying to get it clear in my own mind. ‘Go and fetch her home,’ he said; ‘it isn’t what we thought! It’s just a practical joke of hers. A dissipated, loose-living man. "And now to see the end of it," said Jonathan, shortly afterwards passing through the window. Of his own certain knowledge he could tell them that. I’ll have to wait here, of course, which means you, Hilary—’ ‘Will have to do tomorrow’s patrol. . It’s not you—not a bit. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag.
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