Rita turned down a boulevard with a great flowery park running down the 
middle. It was lined with red stone row-houses with turrets and gargoyles and 
beveled glass everywhere. Men in top hats and women in long dresses strolled, 
pushed perambulators, rode horses or chevalines. Shiny dark green robots, like 
refrigerators tipped over on their sides, hummed down the streets at a 
toddler's walking pace, squatting over piles of manure and inhaling them. From 
place to place there was a messenger on a bicycle or an especially fancy 
personage in a black, full-lane car.