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. The hotel manager was expostulating and Ah Cum was replying by a series of expressive shrugs. The Leads. ‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly.
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