‘Who’s this, then? Not soldiers again. She could not bear the shame of it. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. E. 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.
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