“You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. . Looking at this girl, a sense of failure swept over him. 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. “You may find in it a paragraph of some interest to you. " At the door of this tavern, which was situated on the left of the street, not more than a hundred yards distant from the church, the bell of which began to toll as soon as the procession came in sight, the cart drew up, and the whole cavalcade halted. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest.
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