In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. . “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. " "A terrible dream, indeed," said Jonathan thoughtfully. Be on your guard. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray.
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