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“Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. Courtlaw, is it not,” she remarked, with lifted eyebrows. The chamber, into which he stole, like all carpenters' workshops, was crowded with the implements and materials of that ancient and honourable art. 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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