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. "I've waited supper, you perceive. Turning now, and running down the terrace. ” Mike said, with unsubtle jealousy. ” “That’s why, in a way, I’m prudish. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. En tout cas, why had he not returned? She pondered the question as, later, she paced about her favourite retreat.
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