“I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. I have the right also to throw you out. 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. This was a much more serious task than he anticipated. It was true. Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. His face turned a dark crimson.
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