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. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. ’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands. .
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