Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. ” She became aware of her aunt, through the panes of the greenhouse, advancing with an air of serene unconsciousness from among the raspberry canes. " "Thank'ee,—thank'ee. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. I killed him, Nigel. ’ She frowned suddenly. Not only that, but he is here in London. ” She leaned back amongst the cushions of her chair.
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