" "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. " "Murder him!" cried Trenchard shuddering. I’ll try to stay as long as I can. Sindlesham tried. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it. It was she who had come out from the flat only a few minutes before.
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