London was wrapped in the darkness of night. A casual pedestrian, had he chanced to pass the House of Commons, would probably have stopped to admire its solemn dignity. His eye would have strayed upward, climbed the tower on which sits "Big Ben" and would have seen the light which shines above go out—the sign that a session had just ended. Not many minutes earlier, a weary man had risen from the Treasury Bench to make his way—some few hundred yards to his downy bed. . . ....
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