1 He could wheel himself about in a wheeled chair, and he had a sort of bath-chair with a motor attachment, in which he could puff slowly round the park.
2 Connie went for walks in the park, and in the woods that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and the mystery, kicking the brown leaves of autumn, and picking the primroses of spring.
3 She would rush off across the park, abandon Clifford, and lie prone in the bracken.
4 He looked over the melancholy park.
5 On a frosty morning with a little February sun, Clifford and Connie went for a walk across the park to the wood.
6 The sheep coughed in the rough, sere grass of the park, where frost lay bluish in the sockets of the tufts.
7 Across the park ran a path to the wood-gate, a fine ribbon of pink.
8 When they came to the hazel grove, Connie suddenly ran forward, and opened the gate into the park.
9 As he pushed the chair up the steepish rise of the knoll in the park, he breathed rather quickly, through parted lips.
10 She was stronger, she could walk better, and in the wood the wind would not be so tiring as it was across the park, flattening against her.
11 It was late, and she fled across the park like one who fears to be called back.
12 They were at the gate to the park.
13 She left him and went across the park.
14 Constance, for her part, had hurried across the park, home, almost without thinking.
15 She got very warm as she hurried across the park.