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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. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep. How she learned of her heritage I do not know, but you need not imagine that it is greed that drives her.
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