I came to o go ton. But I’d ed to e over Co go    past trees open out and you    see Lohe valley below you.

        It’s a queer experieo go over a bit of try you    seen in ty years. You remember it i detail, and you remember it all ances are different, and to . You keep feeling, surely to be a lot steeper—surely t turning ly accurate, but icular occasion. You’ll remember, for instance, a er of a field, on a    day in er,    it’s almost blue, and a rotten gatepost covered anding in t you. And you’ll go back after ty years and be surprised because t standing in t you he same expression.

        As I drove up C ture I’d    in my miirely imaginary. But it    t certain tarmac, o be macadam (I remember t u seemed to    a lot rees. In to be    across t to top of tainly    of t of fake-picturesque -not. You kno are just a little too o stand in a roted about in a kind of y, e roads leading up to t trao one of te roads te board which said:

        thE KENNELS

        PEDIGREE SEALYhAM PUPS

        DOGS BOARDED

        Surely t usen’t to be there?

        I t for a moment. Yes, I remembered! ood to be a little oak plantation, and trees greoo close toget tall and to be smotainly t of tohis.

        I got to top of te and Lo excited? At t of seeing it again araordinary feeling t started in my guts crept upo my . Five seds more and I’d be seeing it. Yes, crod on t-brake, and—Jesus!

        O    I didn’t. You    say I    to expect it, and so I    it    even occurred to me.

        t question was, where AS Lower Binfield?

        I don’t mean t it     uring to—o look like from top of Creet    a quarter of a mile long, and except for a felying o t I couldn’t distinguisions and o t t looked like several acres ly alike. A big cil ate, by t.

        But o kno mig it ory c I could see, I couldn’t even make a guess at oern end of toories of glass and crete. t ats for to, as I began to take it in. It occurred to me t tion of t used to be about t be a good ty-five t    c    muc at t distance, but you could see it on te, rees round it, and to    of blabing planes came over town.

        I scarted slo. You knoinuous ro of steps, all exactly t a little before I got to topped again. On t of t e neery. I stopped opposite te to    it.

        It y acres, I s a neery, s ras roug look like somet    t    ied. te cemetery to belong to—Blackett,    it o me     only t to ty acres to dump t ting tery out o t noos its cemetery on tskirts. S a out of sig bear to be reminded of deatombstoell you tory. t t’s al    so in to every day, you sa    mind looking at t , s    too well sealed.

        I let t imagine s, cs of rees and co    t once, a kind of t used to be,    actually existed s. to gro t any fields or any bulls or any mus le ra    anyt a patcruggling among t mats, and snotty-nosed kids playing along t. All strangers! turned. A ra kno ter a and Uncle Ezekiel, and cared less, you bet.

        It’s funny s. I suppose it es since I’d ed at top of tually a bit out of breat t of seeing Lo used to t Loies of Peru. I braced up and faced it. After all, ? too groo live someill existed, t    instead of fields. In a fees I’d be seeing it again, troug-place. I got to ttom of took t-urning, and a mier I .

        I could remember not even remember    too begin. All I kne i    existed. For —a ratreet, raig and tle pub—and o. Finally I pulled up beside a y apron and no    uck my    of the window.

        ‘Beg pardon— you tell me to t-place?’

        S tell’. Ans you could cut s of tressed areas. tools ing along and tried again. time I got t o t.

        ‘Market-place? Market-place? Lessee, now. O?’

        I supposed I did mean t.

        ‘Oake t ‘and turning—’

        It    seemed to me, t    a mile. ball grounds—nely c even boto knoo I grasped presently o call t-place . t properly call it a square, because it icular soraffic-ligatue of a lion o    fes. It    like t. But suddenly I so a street reet!

        After all my memory    played trie. I kne-place. treet. I’d go ter lunco put up at tuff t in ly codd’s! And a big dark so be Lilyo t’s! Still a grocer’s apparently. N-place. t see.

        It turned aside as    into t-place. trough was gone.

        traffic-duty o stand.    t it    t to salute.

        I tur to sut t I    even looked to see anding. tered too, all except t ill it looked like one of tels, and t. It    altill t moment I    t of it on ty years, I suddenly found t I could remember every detail of t ure,    Gee on a very trampling on a very fat dragon, and in t tle signature, ‘m. Sandford, Painter & Carpenter’. tistic-looking. You could see it ed by a real artist. St Gee looked a regular pansy. traps used to stand and to puke on Saturday nigo about times its size and creted over, . I backed to one of t out.

        Oiced about t it goes in jerks. tion t stays by you for aime. During t quarter of an    you could fairly describe as a s it almost like a so ts    top of C Lole stab s    as I stepped out of tcrilby    on to my    t it didn’t matter a damn. It ubs and . Besides, I    of lunch.

        I strolled into tel ial kind of air, s, o meet me, follocase. I felt pretty prosperous, and probably I looked it. A solid business man, you’d    any rate if you    seen t—blue flanripe, yle. It    tailor calls a ‘redug effect’. I believe t day I could ockbroker. And say ’s a very pleasant to o a nice try el    lamb and mint sauce a t it’s any treat to me to stay in els, Lord knooo muety- imes out of a ’s tels, like Rotom’s, aying at present, t, and ts are alaps never    so smart I    . In t el, only a pub, t o let and used to do a farmers’ lunc beef and Yorks dumpling and Stilton c days. It all seemed different except for t a glimpse of as I    past, and    carpet, and ing prints and copper o be, t flags underfoot, and ter mixed up -looking young ook my    the office.

        ‘You wisainly, sir.    name s down, sir?’

        I paused. After all, t. Sty sure to kno isn’t on, and t of us in t’s painful to be reized, I’d been rato it.

        ‘Boinctly. ‘Mr Gee Bowling.’

        ‘Bowling, sir. B-O-A—oh! B-O-? Yes, sir. And you are ing from London, sir?’

        No response. Notered. S!    in turday for over ty years.
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