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InthecourseofthatincredibledayCharityRoyallhad,forthefirstandonlytime,experiencedrailway-travel,lookedintoshopswithplate-glassfronts,tastedcocoanutpie,satinatheatre,andlistenedtoagentlemansayingunintelligiblethingsbeforepicturesthatshewouldhaveenjoyedlookingatifhisexplanationshadnotpreventedherfromunderstandingthem.ThisinitiationhadshownherthatNorthDormerwasasmallplace,anddevelopedinherathirstforinformationthatherpositionascustodianofthevillagelibraryhadpreviouslyfailedtoexcite.ForamonthortwoshedippedfeverishlyanddisconnectedlyintothedustyvolumesoftheHatchardMemorialLibrary;thentheimpressionofNettletonbegantofade,andshefounditeasiertotakeNorthDormerasthenormoftheuniversethantogoonreading.
ThesightofthestrangeroncemorerevivedmemoriesofNettleton,andNorthDormershranktoitsrealsize.Asshelookedupanddownit,fromlawyerRoyall’sfadedredhouseatoneendtothewhitechurchattheother,shepitilesslytookitsmeasure.Thereitlay,aweather-beatensunburntvillageofthehills,abandonedofmen,leftapartbyrailway,trolley,telegraph,andalltheforcesthatlinklifetolifeinmoderncommunities.Ithadnoshops,notheatres,nolectures,no“businessblock”;onlyachurchthatwasopenedeveryotherSundayifthestateoftheroadspermitted,andalibraryforwhichnonewbookshadbeenboughtfortwentyyears,andwheretheoldonesmoulderedundisturbedonthedampshelves.
