Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. 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. She had a warm, fun-loving personality, and an unflattering disrespect for her future husband’s authority. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. I want to enrich it with hangings and gladden it with verses. He had looked at it before without comprehension.
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