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“Dear me!” he said. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. What a girl of sixteen cares for is hair and a high color and moonlight and a tenor voice. Amidst it all, however, there were several light-hearted and laughing groups walking from cell to cell to whom all this misery appeared matter of amusement. When she released him he ran down the beach for a stick which he fetched and laid at her feet. ’ She moved quickly to the nearest bookcase, and listened intently to the sound of Jack’s voice.
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