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And if I hadn't been thirsty, that poor boob would have made a sure getaway and left James Boyle high and dry among the moth-balls! Oh, the old dome works once every so often. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. "I should as soon have expected the bones of Tom Sheppard to reunite themselves and walk out of that case, as Thames Darrell to return. I hope this is all. As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats.
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