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 worked. Always as black and bitter as gall. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. But, egad! I believe he will. ” Two young men on their way down the room came suddenly to a standstill before Anna. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously. “Not to-night,” she said. “It is too late for visitors,” she remarked. ’ ‘It’s immaterial, in any event,’ Roding put in. " "No.
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