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“I’ve thought about it. You've nothing to do but to take possession. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. "No," replied Jonathan, moodily. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. Even our coarseness. For she knew that men married to get something. He began to talk again in quick undertones that she could not clearly hear. A few random students gawked at them in the hall. She infused menace into her voice. 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.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 02-10-2024 12:52:39