Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. He must know she’ll be at a convent. I never realized how fabulous all those homemade dishes were. He was wrapped in a loose dressing-gown of light material, and stood near the corner where the women's dresses had just been thrown down, quite out of sight of all the party, except Mrs. Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over. "It seems like six long months to me. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. He hugged her when he saw her in the hallway. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. ’ ‘Ah, but why remain penniless? After all, your grandfather Charvill—’ ‘Again with the grandfather? Mon ami, if you imagine that this grandfather will welcome a daughter of Nicholas Charvill, whom he has never forgiven that he married a Frenchwoman, then you have an imagination entirely wrong.
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