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At once the air-car made towards it and slid into the tube leading through the hill. Quickly it was in the chamber of the lock, the outer door closed automatically behind, the water was drained out, and then the inner door opened and the car, dripping, emerged into the brilliantly-lit hangar and went to rest in its mooring cradle beside Leithgow's space-ship.
The lobby was already thronged; now people retreating before that violent infusion of arms and legs crowded them close. Varney, standing in front of Miss Carstairs, shielded her from the press, her capable buffer. Soon he noticed that that part of the wall upon which she leaned was not a wall, but a door. He reached past her, turned the knob, revealed a brilliantly-lit little room.
The brilliantly-lit street, with the never-ceasing stream of people pouring along; the shrill cries of the street Arabs, the rattle of vehicles, and the fitful strains of music, all made up a scene which fascinated him, and he could have gone on wandering all night, watching the myriad phases of human character constantly passing before his eyes.
I sit in the shade if any shade there be in this brilliantly-lit apartment; the window-curtain half hides me. Again the arch yawns; they come. The collective appearance of the gentlemen, like that of the ladies, is very imposing: they are all costumed in black; most of them are tall, some young. Henry and Frederick Lynn are very dashing sparks indeed; and Colonel Dent is a fine soldierly man. Mr.
Instinctively, however, she knew from the way that her hostess's eyes had turned to the next comers there were far too many loiterers about this landing, and Lady Stratherne had enough to do to prevent a dead block on the stairs that she need not stay to speak; so she followed her mother and sisters into the large, brilliantly-lit room.
"Thanks," said I quietly, and crossing the brilliantly-lit salon, took my cap and went into the vast hall. Who had come for me my mother? That was my first thought, but a moment's reflection showed that it was unlikely. Had there been anything wrong at home, she would have sent José on a swift horse. The answer to my question came as I stood on the flight of steps leading to the hall.
She sat down on the sofa on which she had sat for a moment alone after her song at the dinner-party, the song murdered by Miss Filberte. The empty, brilliantly-lit rooms seemed unusually large. She glanced round them with inward-looking eyes. Here she was at midnight sitting quite alone in her own house.
Very quickly, however, several boxes belonging to Kouaga were lowered, the moorings were cast off, and slowly the great mail steamer with its long line of brilliantly-lit ports looking picturesque in the night, moved onward. "Good-bye," shouted a voice from the steamer.
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