His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. She took the piece of paper and unfolded it in the safety of her lap. 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. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. In this way (he informed Spurlock) he kept posted on what was going on in the strictly commercial world.
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