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. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. “Can you take any from me?” “No, I won’t do that. I always fall on my feet, you know. ” Sheila scolded, but Lucy had invented a dozen reasons why she had to have her own hamper until finally Sheila got tired of it and relented. Unless he has dealings with the devil, he could never have done this alone.
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