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They were sure to catch up with her. 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. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought.
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