I looked from them to the not-yet-converted railway-car. It
had a wonderful dignity. In its austere and monumental way, it was
very beautiful. It was a noble work of man, and Nature smiled on it. I
wondered with what colours it was to be bejezebelled, and what name--
Bolton Abbey?--Glad Eye?--Gay Wee Gehenna?--it would have to bear, and
what manner of man or woman was going to rent it.
It was on this last point that I mused especially. The housing problem
is hard, doubtless; but nobody, my mind protested as I surveyed the
crescent, nobody is driven to so desperate a solution of it as this!
There are tents, there are caves, there are hollow trees...and there
are people who prefer--this! Yes, `this' is a positive taste, not a
necessity at all. I swept the bay with a searching eye; but heads on
the surface of water tell nothing to the sociologist, and in bath-
robes even full-lengths on the sand give him no clue. Three or four of
the full-lengths had risen and strolled up to the lorry, around which
the mechanics were engaged in some dispute of a technical nature. I
hoped the full-lengths would have something to say too. But they said
nothing. This I set down to sheer perversity. I was more than three
miles from the place where I am sojourning, and the hour for luncheon
was nearly due.
Pages:
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232