ch. Ennison listened, and he forgot where he was. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. He had been quite right to sit down. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. He might have supposed the fellow would be eager to be rid of the tale, for that he might have longer to enjoy the amenities of the Triumphal Chariot where the meeting had been appointed. "I need not ask whether this is Mr. ‘You usually do,’ he said lightly.
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