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. Let me have a word with him, and you may take all the money. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. . I don’t want to influence you unduly—But—They’re artistic people, Vee. You are too credulous. “Are you serious?” “You know very well that I should never joke on such a subject. ” Lucy considered the irony that Michelle had spent seventeen years waiting to escape the suburban existence she had always longed to live. ’ Fury was in her face. She must not show anything.
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