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. A man is so apt to—to take women a little too lightly. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. " "I hope they are, Sir," answered Mrs.
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