She paused. Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. They knew they were all Bogey in disguise. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. She remembered Taber's hat. One always dreamed of this and never believed it. " "I have no people—anybody who would care. ’ ‘Valade?’ ‘Aye, sir. 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.
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