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. Couple of guineas to drink Captain Sheppard's speedy escape. Like the Valades, I imagine. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. Arrived at his habitation, Jonathan knocked in a peculiar manner at the door, which was instantly opened by the grim-visaged porter just alluded to. A married man!—the kind I've never been able to lure down there! But keep your temper in check. ‘For my money, you’ll not get much out of old Jarvis either.
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