Shari laughed hysterically and was promptly shushed by Larry from the next room. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. There was a man, a boy, and a woman. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. I go back about once a year.
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