His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. His glances were hard to disguise as he scanned her periodically during class. 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. It was perfectly logical.
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