They’re too free for their innocence or too innocent for their freedom. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. " "I was never going to tell anybody," she added. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. Anyone would be intrigued. She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished.
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