Melusine choked on a laugh, and Gerald at once seized the initiative, speaking in a tone deliberately soothing. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. 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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