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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. I hate this part of the world. In Darrell's open features, frankness and honour were written in legible characters; while, in Jack's physiognomy, cunning and knavery were as strongly imprinted. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. . "This gentleman wants a pair of oars," said the landlord.
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