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. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. But here the resemblance stopped.
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