There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. It does sound a little horrid to talk so much about oneself and to have views. I'm an old hand at such things. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. And that confounded engagement!” “Gone!” They came upon a platform, and stood before her compartment. She held out her hand frankly.
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