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She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. 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. “We have,” he said, “to be the utmost friends. Let her see what she could make here.

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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 02:57:59

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