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. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. “There are no males at men to stare; A man scores always, everywhere. ‘It is nothing. It was still so dark, that nothing could be distinguished except the heavy masses of timber by which the premises were surrounded; but as they advanced, lights were visible in some of the windows.
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