She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. ” She stopped short. Even the teachers were getting restless, the seniors gnawing hard at the bit as graduation teased. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house.
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