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. ‘Idiot!’
‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to
hold her off. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears,
Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her. They
were properly brought up, and sat still and straight, and took the luck fate
brought them as gentlewomen should. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTUuMC4xMjAgLSAwNi0wNy0yMDI0IDE3OjA4OjUxIC0gMzM5NDQyNDkz
This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 03-07-2024 10:37:06