“To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?” “I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw. 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 girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. Leave the room! leave the house, Sir! and enter it again at your peril.
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