\"I could eat now. I trust that no unpleasant rumours will be circulated before the election, at any rate. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. He had a great contempt for the sections the “theorizers” produced. Twenty guineas, mind. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. "O, lud!" she cried; "French noblemen in disguise! and so rude as I was! I shall never recover it!" "A good supper will set all to rights," insinuated Kneebone. "You've given him a broken head, I perceive. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. ‘It must be painful. "Safe inside," replied the chairman, wiping the heat from his brow; "we've run all the way. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe.
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