A pane of glass was shivered by each stone. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. He waved a cordial goodbye. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. You are the most beautiful, the most desirable thing I have ever met in this world. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. If this success continued, it would be easy to assume the name of Taber.
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