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 shook her head. She lay and nibbled at a sprig of dwarf rhododendron. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. ’ Hilary stared. "I am not," replied Thames; "but I insist upon your taking it back at once. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron.
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