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. You know that, and I know that, though we might be put to it to find a reason why. But what can we do? Here am I, fixed to respectability and this laboratory; you’re living at home. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. ” She laughed.
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