You cannot do a murder and expect that you will not be punished. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. She reached for the door handle. 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. “Now she’s all hat and ideas,” he said, with an air of humor. “I’ll get dressed.
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