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. There was absolute quiet. Sheppard. She felt like Snow White in a secret forest house populated by dwarves. She had called the police on them anonymously. “I am perfectly certain that that man meant to be rude to me. And now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have a little quiet chat together. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood.
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