They knew they were all Bogey in disguise. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. Very central in Miss Miniver’s universe were the Goopes. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him. "Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. His smile faded. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. 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. Stonily he had disengaged himself.
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