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. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock.
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