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. " But he searched in vain. He was now aided with a powerful implement, with which he soon contrived to make a hole in the wall. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. John spent the first weeks of summer backpacking in Europe, and she heard occasional news from Michelle of his whereabouts.
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