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. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. “The unaccountable thing is that I wouldn’t go home to please her. "Sold a good many, though. The monster, Wild, when he visited my dungeon last night, told me, to add to my misery, that she occupied a cell near me. “But you’re wrong.
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