Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding. She slipped silently inside the door as he went inside a 12 putrid little bathroom to urinate. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. 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. .
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