The hansom sped through the crowded streets. 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. She could see that he was curious, so she sat upon him and they rocked back and forth. ‘You see, it’s difficult to do a service for someone when you don’t know who they are, or what they’re up to. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him.
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