Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. Spurling and Marvel rose too. Any one very badly moved choked down a few mouthfuls; the symptom of supreme distress was not to be able to touch a bit. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield.
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