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. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. ’ ‘Oh,’ Gerald uttered, disappointed. I must have been very wound up. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. ” “You are separated from your wife?” “Yes, but do you know how?” “Not exactly. "I understand," she said. “Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. "I was only just in time.
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