Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us. 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 black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine. “Mere sensuality. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk.
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