" "Graves. ” “But that is ridiculous!” he exclaimed. 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. Anna looked at her, startled. She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary.
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