The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. 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. On that night, I surrendered myself to Jonathan Wild, and became— what I am. “All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly.
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