meditatively:

"After all, I don't know that it does them much harm, even if they do
grow up book-students. Such people as that, 'tis a great pleasure
seeing them so happy over work which is not much sought for. And
besides, these students are generally such pleasant people; so kind
and sweet tempered; so humble, and at the same time so anxious to
teach everybody all that they know. Really, I like those that I have
met prodigiously."

This seemed to me such very queer talk that I was on the point of
asking him another question; when just as we came to the top of a
rising ground, down a long glade of the wood on my right I caught
sight of a stately building whose outline was familiar to me, and I
cried out, "Westminster Abbey!"

"Yes," said Dick, "Westminster Abbey--what there is left of it."

"Why, what have you done with it?" quoth I in terror.

"What have WE done with it?" said he; "nothing much, save clean it.
But you know the whole outside was spoiled centuries ago: as to the
inside, that remains in its beauty after the great clearance, which
took place over a hundred years ago, of the beastly monuments to
fools and knaves, which once blocked it up, as great-grandfather
says."

We went on a little further, and I looked to the right again, and
said, in rather a doubtful tone of voice, "Why, there are the Houses
of Parliament! Do you still use them?"