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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. ‘You’re speaking the truth. ” She interrupted as Ann Veronica was about to speak again, with a bright contagious hopefulness. " "I'm sorry. " "Iss, Massa Austin," replied the black. " "So do I," replied Ruth. ” She glanced at Brendon, who stood by her side, tall and threatening. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. ” “But I love you. ‘So I shall do so. No— no, it must never be.
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