Thanksgiving Day morning, Shari woke Lucy a half an hour before the sounding of the alarm. ” Capes let his oar smack on the water. 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. “Looooo-ceeeeee!!” He yelled, sounding like Desi Arnaz. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip.
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