The smell of laundry detergent was noticeable, the bed sheets very tightly stretched across the bed, tucked in on three sides. 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. The Magdalene. “How are those books any different from the witchcraft books?” “I dunno.
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