In the first place, Mrs. 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. “Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. He described her privately to himself as a splendid girl. She leaned back as he climbed on top of her and kissed her mouth again.
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