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. “To the best of my belief, I have never seen the man in my life. ” Ann Veronica looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, and decided to persist on principle. ‘What else was there to do? He paid off the servants and left old Pottiswick in charge, saying that the place would have to remain empty until the heir was found. ’ ‘You always were an old sobersides, even as a boy,’ retorted the major, who was close on thirty now, yet as ripe for excitement as he had been on receiving his first commission at sixteen. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. . ’ Gerald grinned.
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