“Of course he may merely have been telling her who we were, but I think it improbable. 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. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. I couldn’t help the thought. " "When you heard what was going on, why didn't you send for me?" "I didn't know it was going on.
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