Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. “I’ll bring it to-morrow. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. It is no problem. Remember that I’ve seen Brewis Charvill, and I’m well aware of your identity. She addressed Ann Veronica with an air of conveying great open secrets to her. Of course I know nothing of what really did happen in Paris—if even you ever saw him there. It was all highly intriguing. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases. It is you who took my name, not I yours.
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