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. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. 'Received from Sir Rowland Trenchard, 15,000 £. . “Um, okay. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. .
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