She twanged the catgut under her fingers. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. 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. You would not have the slightest difficulty. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. ’ ‘On the contrary.
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