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. ” She played with her hair. ’ ‘Now you come to mention it, it is stupid,’ Gerald said, struck. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. \" \"There's only one problem. Here we go, thought Gerald. Gosse had hidden himself successfully then. " Darrell returned no answer. "And now, shall we proceed to Queenhithe?" "Stay!" cried the other, taking a chair, "a word with you, Mr. "You must have made some exertion to keep your present appointment.
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