” She replied. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. 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. ‘But then again, possibly not. And some were adorned with engravings that struck her as being more vulgar and undesirable than anything she had ever seen in her life. Go and live somewhere else.
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