As to following, there was no one. 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. ‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. . The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast.
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