. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. It is extraordinary. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. . ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay. . The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. Just as Hogarth got to the door, the turnkey stopped him. Howard Spurlock. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. I hope you will always remember——” Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest.
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