What happened? Did you turn me?” “Yes, my love. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. ” John traced his finger over the meeting point of her breast and her ribcage as they lay naked on his unmade bed. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. 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. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion.
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