"So much the better," rejoined Sir Rowland. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. ” Their eyes met for a moment. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. 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. “Oh, Michelle, I’m such a miserable fool.
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