“The Beck family has the cooking gene. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. ”
“You are marvellously like your brother,” Anna said, beaming upon him. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone
call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. ”
She stirred gently in her chair. 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. Promise me that you’ll contact the
police if she ever calls you on the phone, or worse, shows
up at your school. But he's witty and amusing, and when reasonably
drunk he can play the piano like a Paderewski.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 27-06-2024 18:08:37