Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. ’ ‘You, perhaps?’ she flung at him furiously, stepping out from behind the desk. “I certainly knew him no better than you. ” “How could you!” She exclaimed. “You should quit.
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