” Anna laughed outright. 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. “But what can one do?” asked Ann Veronica. A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. Parbleu, but I will certainly kill him this time.
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