“And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a
deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. “I am going to fetch some things that will be wanted
if he pulls through the next hour. “Actually, I am, it is terribly stupid. Who is the other?”
“What other?”
Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. 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. "This tongue looks remarkably nice," he added, slicing off an immense
wedge, "excuse me—ho! ho!"
"You make yourself at home, I perceive," observed Kneebone, with a look of
ineffable disgust.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3LjgwLjIwMiAtIDA2LTA3LTIwMjQgMTA6MTk6NDAgLSAxNDMyNzIyNTUz
This video was uploaded to golfrealestateonline.com on 02-07-2024 10:02:06