In no other city, again, is it possible so often to turn from the throng of a city street and to find oneself, miraculously it would seem, in a little residential quarter of half a dozen bungalows, each sitting cool and sequestered in a large compound that is tree-covered, green and refreshing. It is as though a short walk of two hundred and fifty yards had taken one into the country, miles removed from the din and dust, the fret and fever of the city.