There are many things which I do not understand. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. . So you are Prudence Remenham. When she entered the office a strange scene was presented to her startled gaze. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. “I think you are getting to understand me better. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy.
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