‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. 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. “Is Miss Stanley coming up with us?” “I go second,” she said, “and change at Wimbledon. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 10-06-2024 10:46:55
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