Napoleon, at the Pyramids, thrust one hand over his diaphragm, thickened his neck, beetled his brows, said: "Men, from the summits of these Pyramids 40 centuries look down upon you."
A lanky, long-necked clergyman emerges from the Deanery of St. Paul's Cathedral, London, shuts behind him the learning of 40 centuries, gazes wearily down a hill black with automotive traffic, whispers: "Woe, woe is this perverse generation."
Down Ludgate Hill he marches, into Fleet Street, haunt of journalists. A Gentleman with a Duster spies him and makes these notes: "Tall ;rigidlean gray faceheavy-lidded...
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