Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. Ever hear of the djinn in the bottle? Like enough. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. It’s—it’s a social difference. ’ The idiocy of it all irritated Melusine. ’ ‘What, a common soldier?’ ‘He was not a common soldier. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating.
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