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. She opened it and imbibed. I am guilty practically of the impertinence of coming to ask you whether I misunderstood your sister. My heart misgives me. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. ” “I suppose,” Ennison said, “the likeness between the sisters must be rather exceptional?” “I never saw the goody-goody one close to, so I can’t say,” Drummond answered. I get my driver's license tomorrow. "Or trying to be," answered the doctor. She told us that it was a disguise. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train.
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