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He lived in a large new house of red brick, standing outside

a iston

Wiggiston was only seven years old It had been a haricultural country

Then the great seareat s

of five roorey-black macadamized road, asphalt causeways, held

in between a flat succession of wall, , and door, a

new-brick channel that began nowhere, and ended nowhere

Everything was a repeated itself

endlessly Only now and then, in one of the house-s

vegetables or sroceries were displayed for sale

In the e, open, shapeless space,

or market-place, of black trodden earth, surrounded by the sari doors, repeated endlessly, with just,

at one corner, a great and gaudy public house, and soeopaque

and darkish green, which was the post office

The place had the strange desolation of a ruin Colliers

hanging about in gangs and groups, or passing along the asphalt

pave people, but

like spectres The rigidity of the blank streets, the