“Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. Their doors stood open, and placards with big letters indicated the section assigned to each. It was not possible for him to have been deceived. 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.
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