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. ” “You do not deny that you are my wife,” he asked hoarsely. . They stopped talking, except to each other. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. Anna was sitting before the fire a little distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing. "That's tremendous!" he cried.
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