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. And I want you for myself—for my wife. Ann Veronica decided to be more explicit. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her. Larry and Cathy always went to great lengths to make the holiday season very special, getting a real tree from American Sale every year even though it was an extravagance. I was being stupid. All the rest of our lives would be together then, Ann Veronica. "Your gratitude will vanish with your danger. You're a friend of the young man?" "If you mean did I know him before he became ill, no. " "Well, Sir," gasped Mrs. Hence!" "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, in a voice, the tones of which were altered by his very anxiety to make them distinct, "listen to me.
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