All I had to do was to piece them together. She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. The boy was coming around. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. Whatever he wrote he was: he became this or that character, he suffered or prospered equally.
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