“My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. " "What a life!" "No worse than yours. 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. You should have confided in me, and fallen in with my plan at the beginning. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. He could scarcely blame her. But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. It is the same with animals.
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