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. A black-garbed young lad leapt out and let down the steps. I asked her to marry me, and she consented. ‘Eh bien, does that mean that you will do it again?’ ‘Not if I can help it,’ Gerald uttered, alarmed. " Then he became merciful. "Yes, yes," replied Edgeworth Bess. . Still, they bob up occasionally.
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