Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. Annabel shook her head. Most women of great physical beauty are flawed, and their flaw is that they are dense with no ability to perceive or retain true knowledge. God, we suck. “We have to be— modern. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. It’s just because all that side of your life hasn’t fairly begun.
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