Why should she? she asked rebelliously. 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. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. "Ah!" he exclaimed, in a tone of anguish.
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