She HAD cried, Ann Veronica knew. 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 mustn’t have any unpleasantness, and Mr. "I can do without it," muttered Jack. For a long time he stared at the empty doorway. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. She thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all.
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