Summit Avenue was the prettiest street in Berwick. Spacious and comfortable looking homes stood on either side of it, each in its setting of lawn and shade trees. Most of these showed no dividing fences or hedges, and boundaries were indiscernible in the green velvety sward that swept in a gentle slope to the sidewalk. Of two neighbouring houses, the side windows faced each other across two hundred feet of intervening turf. The windows of one house were duly fitted with window screens, holland shades and clean, fresh white curtains; for it was May, and Berwick ladies were rarely dilatory with their Spring cleaning. But the other house showed no window dressings, and the sashes were flung open to the sunny breeze, which, entering, found rugless floors and pictureless walls.
