" "I'm convinced of it," replied Shotbolt; "and it was on that very account I came here. "I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. 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 mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. "Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother.
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