” “You have her face and figure,” he muttered. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. 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. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. ” He stroked her hand gently.
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