’ The girl bit her lip and backed a little, while her husband shifted to stand at her side. On that first occasion, the delay in locating the entrance to the secret passage meant that she had to wait until morning to make her search. It’s these damned novels. 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 will take her risk,” she answered.
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