Quilt Arnold was stationed at the stair-head, near which the boat containing the captive boy was moored. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. To-day he selected the girl, and gave her the lead-chair. It took my breath away. 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.
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