They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. 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 really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me. “Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything.
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