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 she—’ ‘She!’ interrupted the young lady crossly. Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated. I don’t want to get old or to watch my kids get married or retire. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually.
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