But not today. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense. As Melusine approached the door, she saw Kimble speed up. 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. A neat tale, giving little away. “You should quit. Jolly nice girl, too.
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