” “They’ll find out. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. ” “I like the mystical way better,” said Ann Veronica, and thought. “How gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an effort to get home in time for dinner. She took up a book and threw it down again. Upon which Mrs. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. Only Gwen left a letter on the pincushion. 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.
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