Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. It is useless to talk. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. " Prudence shrugged. Wood at Dollis Hill, was assaulted and half-killed by a party of ruffians, headed, he swore, by Mr. Thieves and pickpockets are his constant companions.
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