Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. " This simple admission disarmed McClintock. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it. Wood!—no," replied the turnkey.
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