He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. 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 hid because there was no other way of seeing you. Sewn on that button yet?" "I've been afraid to take the coat from under the pillow. White, my landlady, believes his story.
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