Chapter 37 No.37

The bomb was, that evening, the dominant note of the occasion. Through the illuminated streets, the slowly surging crowds-inhuman in their abandon to the monotonous ebb and flow as of a sweeping river-the cries and laughter and shouting of songs, that note was above all. An eye-witness-a Mr. Frank Harris, butcher of 82 Cheapside-had his veracious a