Marvel, therefore, remained on his probation. They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows. 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. She tried to be casual. No man knew whence she had come nor why.
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