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. Ennison?” Sir John hesitated. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. The more she disentangled the lines of her situation the deeper grew her self-disgust. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding.
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