“If you say so, my pet. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. John looked at his feet bashfully. “It is a hateful story. You have never known what it is to want food, raiment, shelter. 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. Though he never seen so much of Miss Mary as I did. His room was last at the end of one winding corner.
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