Leaves swirled and crackled along the cold stone pavements and tarmac.adam road, hurrying to find some sheltered ledge or wall where they could mass and huddle together with others and wait for the end. Radford thought about the leaves as he fixed his park- ing light and as he walked up the short front path to his door. It seemed only yesterday that they were just green shoots, people were saying: The leaves have started to show, and the invigorating atmosphere of spring was every- where. He stood at the door for a while, looking back along the street with its so ordinary suburban semi-detached and terraced houses, the regularly-spaced iron lamp standards with blobs of light and dark shadows in between, and he remembered the house in Farley Vale, the steep gables and clean white walls, the lawns and silver birches, the firs and oaks. The nearest to it had been over two hundred yards away, hidden by shrubs and trees. He had loved that place, had put a lot into it, and he d never quite got over the wrench of leaving it, nor had the bitterness left him. When you are riding high it is difficult to be pessimistic, to have doubts. You could be blissfully ignorant of what lay round the corner and then~and then, the whole structure of your economic existence could fall about your ears.
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