" "If only…. Jackson?" said Wood, significantly. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. Besides—there is Sir John. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters.
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