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. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. “Violence won’t do it,” said Ann Veronica. The entrance was barred against them; and they had the additional mortification of hearing Sheppard's loud laughter at their discomfiture.
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