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. “You won’t give me away, Anna. Now, Sir, will you please to follow me?" Mr. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally.
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