“More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. She rested her head upon his shoulder. "She has," rejoined Sheppard. This was automatically rather than thoughtfully done; habit. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. "Well, Joan," said the benevolent mechanic, after he had looked at her steadfastly for a few moments, "what say you?—silence gives consent, eh?" Mrs. 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. Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey XVII.
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