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. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. ” Anna looked at her sister gravely. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. You didn’t even put the twelve words. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. I'll keep it for your sake.
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