She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. But she had loved the man. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. Stonily he had disengaged himself.
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