"I can," replied Trenchard. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. “That’s all,” she said “I’m afraid I’m a little confused about these things. 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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