Madame Redbelt 



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have seen Madame Redbelt. Now and then, it 

 is true, I catch a glimpse of an Ammophila 

 flitting about the stone wall, and perhaps it 

 may sometimes have been she, who remembers 

 why not? the very hot days and the gray 

 spider overhead, and the colossal figure that 

 so strangely scrutinized all the work in the 

 tiny triangular garden where her hopes lie 

 buried, and who anxiously watches for their 

 fulfillment. 



