‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. 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. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. 8 or 1. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her.
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