What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. Her heart thudded. She was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. At the bottom of the trunk I found two of my mother's dresses. Impressed with this idea, he paused for a moment to listen.
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