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. “In the bathroom. ‘Bête!’ Gerald caught her hand as she pulled it back to deliver another blow. I spoke a thought aloud. He has always plenty of evidence in reserve. God, Lucy, that’s the stuff people wear to Phys. I doubt I hold any interest for him anymore. Would you like me to take one for you?\" \"Nah. Well, whenever you say, I promise to do away with the mystery.
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