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‘Did you say the stars were worlds, Tess?’

‘Yes.’

‘All like ours?’

‘I don’t know, but I think so. They sometimes seem to be like the apples on our stubbard-tree. Most of them splendid and sound — a few blighted.’

‘Which do we live on — a splendid one or a blighted one?’

‘A blighted one.’

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