" "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. ‘She obviously likes Leonardo. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. Martha had been more to her than that. 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.
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