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"So for you, they're all heroines and saints?" "Never mind what they are. I stand by them! I'm ready to give them what they ask." "Ready to hand the Empire over to them to smash like the windows in Piccadilly?" said Blaydes. "Hang the Empire! what does the Empire matter! Give the people in these islands what they want before you begin to talk about the Empire. Well, good-bye, I must be off!"
"No they'd never dare to touch that!" said Lathrop as he led the way to the path skirting the house. "And if I caught Miss Marvell at it, I'm not sure I shouldn't hand her over myself!" "Aren't we trespassing?" said Blaydes, as their footsteps rang on the broad flagged path which led from the front court to the terrace at the back of the house. "Certainly. Ah, the dog's heard us."
While in the foreground and middle distance, some trees already stripped and bare, winter's first spoil, stood sharply black against the scarlet of the sunset. And fusing the whole scene, hazes of blue, amethyst or purple, beyond a Turner's brush, "What beauty! my God!" Blaydes came to stand beside the speaker, glancing at him with eyes half curious, half mocking.
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