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Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. "Why, Jack Sheppard, the notorious house-breaker,—him as has robbed half Lunnun, to be sure. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. ToC Mr. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. "Your son," answered the boy. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers.
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