In such a case there was an avalanche of broken masonry cascading out into the roadway.
Midway of the mile-long avenue of utter waste which we now traversed we came on a sort of small square.

Here was the yellow village church.

It lacked a spire and a cross, and the front door was gone, so we could see the wrecked altar and the splintered pews within.

Flanking the church there had been a communal hall, which was now shapeless, irredeemable wreckage.

A public well had stood in the open space between church and hall, with a design of stone pillars about it.