So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. “She must look forward to Italy. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. She gloried in it: he needed her.
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