Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. You tonic my liver and you tonic my soul. "I alone am to blame. 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. These things are difficult. " "To be sure you are," replied Jonathan, laughing.
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