They are all at prayer at this hour. When he comes he will do that raid of the pantechnicons the justice it deserves; he will picture the orderly evening scene about the Imperial Legislature in convincing detail, the coming and going of cabs and motor-cabs and broughams through the chill, damp evening into New Palace Yard, the reinforced but untroubled and unsuspecting police about the entries of those great buildings whose square and panelled Victorian Gothic streams up from the glare of the lamps into the murkiness of the night; Big Ben shining overhead, an unassailable beacon, and the incidental traffic of Westminster, cabs, carts, and glowing omnibuses going to and from the bridge. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
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