” “They’re back together again?” Lucy felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds.
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