The sky was dripping a wet, slow rain that had forced the city’s inhabitants into taxicabs and dingy cafeterias, the day wholly ruined for all except the insane schizophrenics and her. The stoppage had materially lessened the distance between him and his pursuers, who now amounted to more than a hundred persons, many of whom carried lanterns and links. 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.
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