“You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. Never had her father explained. 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. A conviction that her sister’s words were true had from the first possessed her. She met him by the dugout after the game. Something softened in Melusine’s chest. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them.
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