The others hurried to the window. He recognized me at once, and he behaved like a madman. She expanded that. They thought that she was her own mother. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. There was. 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.
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