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. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. Two hours had come and gone during this tantalizing occupation. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. She could think of nothing more to say. "Mercy!" screamed Mrs. ’ ‘No, miss,’ cut in Kimble. Wants me to look out for you a bit.
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