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. When I've escorted you proud fool to his new quarters, I'll proceed to the Mint and look after Jack Sheppard. Gerald stayed him. “You needn’t say a word more,” Mr. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. I've an idea it'll be that long before the chap gets up.
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