“You must send for the police at once, you know. And always they were well satisfied. Behind Mrs. But that bridge was more remarkable than any the metropolis now possesses. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. Great stone staircases leading no one knew whither, and long gloomy passages, impressed the occasional visitor with the idea that he was traversing a building of vast extent; and, though this was not the case in reality, the deception was so cleverly contrived that it seldom failed of producing the intended effect.
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