"But he can't be far off. You're luck. To Ruth came that of the great world, her lawful lover at her side; and there would be glorious books into each of which he would unconsciously put a little of her soul along with his own, needing her always. Your mind is still subtly sick. Now keep still. Died short, I suppose, and the girls had to shift for themselves. There were some deepseated fears of the rot spreading to England, if the simmering discontent of the peasantry of France were to erupt any further. 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. And after that Alice became remoter than ever, and, after a time, ill. He was not there.
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