” “I’m so glad you’ll go. I've my own reasons for disliking this job. ” Her eyes glinted, macabre. 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. John’s demeanor shifted. " "Holloa! my hearty!" cried Ben, starting to his feet. I must see if I have a gown fit to wear.
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