“This ain’t no place for you. 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. I had two slices. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. "But, take my advice, and keep out of Sir Rowland's way, or you'll get the poor lady into trouble as well as me.
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