” Everything was good. The jailers robbed the prisoners: the prisoners robbed one another. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. 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. Much to my amazement, as soon as I was in her presence I forgot about my magic and thought only of love.
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