‘So I shall do so. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. Evidently Ah Cum's luck had held good. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. She had tried him as a Crusader, in which guise he seemed plausible but heavy—“There IS something heavy about him; I wonder if it’s his mustache?”—and as a Hussar, which made him preposterous, and as a Black Brunswicker, which was better, and as an Arab sheik. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. They have retired.
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