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. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. He would repeat them innumerable times, and patiently Ruth would repeat her answers. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. Then the distant relationship to Miss Stanley gave them a slight but pleasant sense of proprietorship in the girl. To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant. Their example was immediately imitated by the officers, constables, javelin men, and other attendants; and nothing was to be heard but shouts of laughter and jesting,—nothing seen but the passing of glasses, and the emptying of foaming jugs. We are not animals. We were going at a mad pace.
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