Lucy thought of herself as belonging to Sebastian whether she liked it or not. ‘I do not know of whom you speak. 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. I shall give you my life, every moment and thought of my life.
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