Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. Brown, Lucy, and Martin Chen were at the center of the joyous horde. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. The walls were of immense thickness; the small windows double-grated and unglazed; the fire-place was without a grate; and a barrack-bed, divided into two compartments, occupied one corner. He was accompanied by Ireton and Austin. “I wonder how it is,” she exclaimed, “that my friends have so much more confidence in me than I have in myself.
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