"Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. 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 will never wed you. ’ ‘Sport!’ grumbled her betrothed, but he accompanied them across the ballroom all the same. Wood's boat bearing up towards him.
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