A BIG Sunbeam touring car was crawling along the concrete road of one of the new building estates bordering on Ealing. Its occupants were gazing at the fronts of the houses on either side of the road.
“I must explain that Christine is still under the spell of this new craze for modern houses, replete with all the gadgets which become your own property as soon as you have paid the first instalment to the building society,” said Herbert Mitchell to his friend Jim Milsom, who had undertaken to cart them round in his car on their house-hunting expedition.
They were friends of long standing. The Mitchells, who had been living in France from motives of economy, had lately been driven out by the persistent adherence of the French to the gold standard and the consequent high cost of living as compared with the cost in England.
“I’m not under the spell of these long rows of houses all exactly alike,” protested Christine. “I was thinking of a detached bungalow somewhere—”