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. The Flash Ken XV. The scrutiny of any strange man provoked a sweaty terror. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. Supper was over. I went off to round up his wife.
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