" With this assurance, and at the reiterated request of Thames, the little girl reluctantly withdrew. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. 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 might have muddled for a time. The contact is disturbing; and we prefer going around the fact to facing it. ” But after that neither ideas nor phrases had come and she had fallen thinking of the events of the day.
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