Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. 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. “If you say so, my pet. ” Anna was silent. . "Not the sort of stories young ladies should read. Only that you will hurry and help Jacques.
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