” “I knew it,” Ennison exclaimed. “You do not even know what you are talking about. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. ” Anna laughed softly. 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.
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