Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. 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. Ben watched these manoeuvres with great interest, and strained every sinew in his frame to keep ahead of the other boats. These two elderly ladies would call her stark mad.
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