He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. 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. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire. "Fire! That was what drew me to you in the beginning. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. She cocked her head. "Your audacity passes belief," cried the latter, as soon as his surprise would allow him utterance.
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