If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. 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. Rollo began to cavort. . He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. She leaned a little towards him. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them.
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