After that consolations fled. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. 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. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. ’ With difficulty, Gerald bit back a laugh. So this was what it was all about.
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