"What's all this?" exclaimed Wood in amazement. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. But all of that was forgotten. 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. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. 3. 3.
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