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. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. Between the two officers, with their arms linked in his, Jack Sheppard was conducted to the cart. Wild's name. Diedermeyer, sweetheart? He just went in.
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