"Were you present at the time of the robbery?" pursued Jonathan. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday.
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