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. He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be. ” To her relief, Trodger sent one of his men posthaste to London with this missive, while the other went to fetch the horse, having been given precise directions on how to negotiate the passage so that he might find it at the other end. She did not bother with the backpack despite its due tomorrow status. The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known.
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