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. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. "And you will answer it frankly?" "Certainly. From this peaceful scene Jack's eye fell upon Jonathan, who, seated upon the stile, under the shade of an elder tree, was evidently watching him. "I haven't offended you?"—not contritely but curiously.
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