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. ‘Do you think it is the man in the moon that I mean? What is it that Gérard has told you?’ ‘That you need help. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. It is better to face the truth.
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