Ramage tethered the horse to the farther gate-post, and Caesar blew heavily and began to investigate the hedge. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. 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.
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