The tables were then cleared. Mrs. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. In the pause she realized the attention of the others converged upon her, and that the tears were brimming over her eyes. It tore her apart. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my entire life, Lucy, and that’s saying something. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her.
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