He belonged to an ordered society, and this was it. More than any of the friends in her own world, he spoke the familiar language of her childhood. In London, anybody, at any moment, might do or become anything. But in a village - no matter what village - they were all immutably themselves; parson, organist, sweep, duke's son and doctor's daughter, moving like chessmen upon their alloted squares.
(from Busman's Honeymoon, by Dorothy L. Sayers)
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