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. I have seen you with Anna, and I have not known whether to be glad or sorry. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. "But, I say, that girl is a queer one.
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