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. She spoke with many other high schoolers while reveling in her new popularity. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. It was his turn to express astonishment. "Well, you women are forgiving creatures, I must say," observed Jonathan, sarcastically.
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