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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. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. Now, you and I can gossip at a gate, and Honi soit qui mal y pense. We won’t drag you away until you’ve been through the place from top to bottom. Since Mary predeceased Jarvis, Nicholas could scarcely argue himself to be my brother’s next of kin. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. '" "An ingenious device," laughed Gay.
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