’ ‘Will you have done, Gerald?’ demanded Hilary, exasperated. 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. She cleaned everything, wiped every surface, mopped and scrubbed every last drop of blood. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging.
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