On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. He gripped the window-sill behind him. 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. “It is too late for visitors,” she remarked. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. \" Cathy beamed. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. After he had eaten dinner with Ruth, he had gone to McClintock's; and he had heard music such as he had heard only in the great concert halls. ” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind.
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