Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. "But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully. You’re dogmatic. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. She entered the room in the shadows. 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. They drove rapidly through the emptying streets.
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