The lady grasped it more firmly and turned it upon Hilary. She had been so young then. 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. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. . Both started.
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