They did not want her. “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her. That would be fun, eh?" "I wonder if you know how kind you are? You are like somebody out of a book. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. 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 drove around town that night in his Buick convertible.
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