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"You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper,
drawing his chair closer to hers. 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. They laughed and talked and stared about them. At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of
rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against
the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes
did not run in the ordinary channels. Her
father was holding her waist, smiling. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening
the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. "
"That was my doing, dearest," urged the carpenter; "I was afraid if you saw her
that some such scene as this might occur. “How are you feeling?” She asked with grave concern
in her voice.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 01-07-2024 17:10:33