"He says he don't understand flash," replied the lady in gentleman's attire. " "At all events, let me send her away, my dear," supplicated the carpenter, anxious to avert the impending storm. ‘Also that it was that you did not wish the French connection. " "I dare say no such thing," interposed his better half, authoritatively; "remain where you are, Sir. . I want you to be my wife. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. 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. Except he was the only idiot who would stay. She found the silence comforting, as old people often do. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. Nor was he long in making it available.
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