Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. "Not so," replied Jack, throwing down the skreen. This done, he followed the course which Jack had just taken. Once outside, she ran towards the playground, and the grotto, a miniature limestone version of the manor, which was in itself a miniature of a fortress. The Frenchman was already being followed.
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