9. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. No! I do not even know that he cares for me. Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion’s arm. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. ” He retorted smartly, looking at her with mischief. ’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression. 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.
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