Time wore on somewhat slowly with the
prisoner, who had to control his impatience in the best way he could; but as the
shades of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and Mr. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty,
struggle. Contrasted with the confused
movement and presences of a Fabian meeting, or the inexplicable enthusiasm
behind the suffrage demand, with the speeches that were partly egotistical
displays, partly artful manoeuvres, and partly incoherent cries for unsoundly
formulated ends, compared with the comings and goings of audiences and
supporters that were like the eddy-driven drift of paper in the street, this long,
quiet, methodical chamber shone like a star seen through clouds. This was
no light conquest; nor was it a government easily maintained. "
"I have often conjured up some frightful vision of the dead," murmured the
knight, "but I never dreamed of an interview with the living. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in
place with rigid control.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 06-07-2024 23:09:28