Perhaps in two or three weeks. Never! And they don’t know it! They have no idea of it. She forced herself not to think of John. He got out of the car and lifted her from the convertible before she could open the door. Capes came back into her mind. Anyhow, they didn’t run about so much. 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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