The Enigma Of Arrival - pg. 219

Service -- a world dead and gone. But not to Bray; his childhood lay there, just as my childhood lay in the vanished world of sugar-cane fields and huts and barefoot children; and ditches and hibiscus hedges; and religious ceremonies which I accepted but didn't understand; and the beauty of the lighting of the lamps after the prayer in the evening; and the fear of the run-shops and the quarrels and fierce fights. Just as 'estate', 'labourer', 'gardeners' called up special pictures for me, so Bray lived with pictures of the valley I could only dimly visualize.