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. She was weeping now. Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light. ’ ‘But, no,’ She dimpled. I told her I was sick today and she told me to get over myself. ’ ‘I thought so,’ Gerald said with satisfaction.
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