"Well, gentlemen," rejoined Wood, mildly; "since Mr. . 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. Of course, why not? She would be honest, anyhow! She turned her eyes to Manning. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. I don’t want to bother you, of course. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh. I always fall on my feet, you know. "I'm sure he won't attempt to prevent me," rejoined Thames.
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