“My dear boy,” she exclaimed. It never is. "By G—! she has missed her footing. "Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense. Men of action by the scarlet coats with their grey facings—insignia of the county militia. 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. As he looked in this direction, Wild gave him a significant wink, the meaning of which he was not slow to comprehend. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat.
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