Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. She was by his side. ‘I don’t want a list of all the nuns resident in your wretched convent. " He ignored the command. 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.
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