It was something that Sebastian had refused to do, a lifestyle that he placed himself above. He refused. Here you only waste your time. 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. Not a word had been exchanged between the two boys on the road. She was for ever scanning luggage and finding her way about the world, via these miniature pictures.
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