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. ‘And just who is Leonardo?’ ‘How in God’s name should I know?’ demanded Roding irascibly. He kissed her once inside the car. ’ She tossed her head. At second hand it would be unendurable. Rather would I have gone with Leonardo—and he wished me to do so. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. The expression pervading the countenance of the one was vulgarity; of the other, that which is rarely found, except in persons of high birth.
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