This fall saved him, for the horsemen passed over him. Who's the lucky boy, Lucy?\" Lucy looked at her slippered feet. “Holy shit!” Giggling and snickering was amplified by asbestos tiles and reverberated by metal desks. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. 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. "But, perhaps, he has not got beyond the room above.
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