She was afraid to spend
so much on cabs, for she must get back to Bryngelly.
"I'll take yer for eighteenpence, miss," called out the other driver.
This offer she was about to accept when the first man interposed.
"You leave my fare alone, will yer? Tell yer what, miss, I'm a
gentleman, I am, and I'll take yer for a bob."
She smiled and entered the cab. Then came a whirl of great gas-lit
thoroughfares, and in a quarter of an hour they pulled up at the
entrance to the House. Beatrice paid the cabman his shilling, thanked
him, and entered, only once more to find herself confused with a vision
of white statues, marble floors, high arching roofs, and hurrying
people. An automatic policeman asked her what she wanted. Beatrice
answered that she wished to get into the House.
"Pass this way, then, miss--pass this way," said the automatic officer
in a voice of brass. She passed, and passed, and finally found herself
in a lobby, among a crowd of people of all sorts--seedy political touts,
Irish priests and hurrying press-men. At one side of the lobby were more
policemen and messengers, who were continually taking cards into the
House, then returning and calling out names.
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