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Selfishness. That's the only fault I know of. That’s all. Most
unsatisfactory. I step on my neighbour's feet, return and
apologize because my acquired conscience orders me to do so; whereas you
might pass on without caring if your neighbour hopped about on one foot. 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. Even then it sent
Spurlock spinning backward, to crash against the wall. All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid
hold of him. Ann Veronica was not aware of this literary side of her teacher; she had a little
tinge of annoyance at Miss Garvice’s advantage. She began to act. “I am going,” she said grimly, with three hairpins in her mouth.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 26-06-2024 04:34:23