Ruth met him in the hall as he was following his family into the dining room. All the village was assembled in the churchyard. Thank goodness you’ll understand. “Stop!” He ran towards her. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. 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 could not make him understand.
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