Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. 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. She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. He drove it into her missionary style, and though he was worried about hurting her, he could not stop himself from thrusting into her deeply. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. “I suppose my levity is incorrigible. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope.
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