“Mr. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. “What are your objections?” she said. “Only it is much too late for you to be out alone. Besides, he was a Yale man. What you said wanted saying. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse. At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread.
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