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. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. It would not burden him with any obligation. They all stay!” “And you yourself?” Brendon laughed. " "No," said Ruth, pulling back. " "I'll bring you an armful this afternoon.
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