Lucy clutched the pencil in defeat. 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. “We must go. ’ ‘Have no fear. ‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. “His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere.
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