Jack! Mon dieu, but he was unarmed. 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 worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. The day was warm even under an overcast sky and Hilary, uncomfortable, shifted his weight.
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