"Vot are you?" "Practising patience," growled Abraham. \" \"Good night, Mom. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. People were passing in the street below. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. I did all for the best, I'm sure.
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