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” He left off abruptly. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. “Stuffy these trees make the Avenue,” said Mr. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. 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. "I imagine I must have a hundred rolls—all the old fellows. ‘Go you through the passage and find the other door.

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