"We should see her violet lights in ten minutes.

Mind the traffic as you pass number three.
The North ship from Norway is just in." Nigel addressed a word of caution to the chauffeur, and they drove on.
From the first shed they passed a stream of vehicles was pouring out,--porters with luggage, jostling throngs of newly arrived passengers on their way to the Electric Underground.

They drove into number seven shed, left the car, and walked to the end of the long platform.

The great arc of glass-covered roof above them was brilliantly illuminated, throwing a queer downward light upon the long line of waiting porters, the refreshment rooms, the kiosks and newspaper stalls.

In the far end, a huge airship, bound for the East, was already filling up.