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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. While Jonathan was conversing with Austin, from whom he took care to conceal the fact of his having seen Sheppard since his escape, Ireton entered the Lodge. But in a moment she believed she understood. Gracious, there’s the gong. "I've proofs to the contrary," replied Jonathan. One of the coolies held the paper lantern.
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