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. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home. It’s Providence. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. "Well, Sir?" cried the other, eagerly. Further on, there were impressions of bloody footsteps along the floor. Wood and the waterman, meanwhile, proceeded in the direction of St.
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