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. Wood, "it may be poisoned. " "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue. Determined, however, not be taken with life, he held on. “You found the flat easily?” said Capes in the pause.
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