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. But there was no sign from her. As he fell, he caught at the projecting masonry. If only Gerald would come. ’ ‘You were quite as bad to me as I was to you,’ Gerald protested mildly, sitting down beside her. Wood, then, beheld two persons, one of whom he recognised as Rowland, spring on board the chase. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow.
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