At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. 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. I came here peaceably, and I only ask for a few words with you. Sheppard, who seemed to be crouching upon the floor.
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