But just now there is nothing which you or anybody can do. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. And she felt that if she went home it was imperative to pay. ” She shook her head. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. 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 looked at her for a moment fixedly.
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