His
analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not sensitive to this. 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. Here was a poor half-naked
creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand,
seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. She
recoiled. The heroism of two beach combers had
saved all on board and their own manhood as well. As soon as the service was over, Thames contrived to approach him, and
whispered, "Be cautious,—the funeral will take place after evening service. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. . "Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an
authoritative tone. We shall never have an heir, you and I! My family is
crumbling; all of my brothers are dead.
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