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. It was situated off a little hallway that led also to the kitchens and the back door to the outside. When she awoke, her husband held her hand as 31 Sebastianus urged her to drink weak wine. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now.
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