She wanted to know. Finger to his lips, Gerald pointed in the direction of the noise. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners. 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. But to make an arrest to be like a revenge? No, a thousand times. Even if you didn’t know it. "Where did I hear that before?" "Perhaps that first day, in the water-clock tower.
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