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. For Ruth was in love, tenderly and beautifully in love; but she did not know how to express it beyond the fetch and carry phase. "Medicine cannot save mo now. I am suspected of having shot the man. So, adroitly and patiently, he pulled Ruth apart; that is, he plucked forth a little secret here, another there, until he had quite a substantial array. Anna admitted the fact. Do you know this, Sir?" he added, taking a key from his pocket.
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