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. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. Who's the lucky boy, Lucy?\" Lucy looked at her slippered feet. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately.
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