" "No," cried the lady, "this room—I recollect—it has a back window. His face turned a dark crimson. But Jack was too nimble for him. 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. It was about twelve feet high, nine wide, and fourteen long; and was approached by double doors each six inches thick. Tears started to the young man's eyes on beholding the change, and it was with difficulty he could command himself sufficiently to make the inquiries he desired to do respecting the former owner of the house.
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