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. “Only it is much too late for you to be out alone. Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. ’ Melusine turned her head. " "That's better.
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