"Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. For the first time a definite doubt possessed him. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. \"Yep. ” She said to him. She was quite a beauty, all in white, and I can still see how much you resemble her. It was. ’ She grasped the girl’s arm. “My dear sweet Lucia. 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. Hastily, he reached for the door.
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