“You Mr. " "A penny, if you please, Sir," said the hawker. 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. It came to Spurlock suddenly that if something did not react in his favour inside of five minutes, he was done.
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