” There followed an instant’s pause, and then Ann Veronica had decided to misunderstand. 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. She was, she guessed, close to the library. "The only disguise I ever put on is a dress-suit, and I look as natural as a pig at a Mahomedan dinner.
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