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. "I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. I want to be with you. He walked out into the Champs Elysées and sat down. "Your ladyship has never been well since you married Sir Cecil," rejoined Mrs. Her head rose.
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