Pulling her head up out of her arms, the Guttersnipe watched Domitia come wearily back up the incline toward her, a subdued and introverted figure. She held herself quite still, like a coney when a fox is trotting by down the wind, and waited. She waited, and heard Domitia out in tones of resignation, and waited a little longer. The fear, the cowardice, that was something she would not address. It was not a thing for her to know, and she felt awkward hearing it from Domitia's own mouth. All she said, with a horsey shake of her head, was, "You will learn to take nothing we say at face value, by and by."
And she put out her hand to the bough bending down at her elbow, and swept back the thick obscuring leaves, showing up a cluster of ripe red apples, to show Domitia what she could not put into words herself.
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