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Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. " She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. ’ ‘That’s better. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. "Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you are a dead man. "Here's a door," remarked Ireton, when he got to that nearest the leads, "which I could have sworn would have resisted anything.

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