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“The horse’s knees are broken, and I am not sure that the man is sober. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. 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. We come out into the world, some of us—” She paused. It was enough. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. But she perceived that to tell Manning of her Ramage adventures as they had happened would be like tarring figures upon a water-color. And nothing to tell her where to begin. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 07:55:30