Her bare feet went from under her.
Down she fell, asprawl; the peaches flying in fifty directions.

She had cut her knee, painfully, against the concrete edge.

This, and the knowledge that Ruloff would most assuredly punish her clumsiness, made her break out in shrill weeping.
Among the cascaded peaches she lay, crying her eyes out.

Up the hill toward her scrambled Ruloff; basket on shoulder; yelling abuse better fitted for the ears of a balky mule than for those of a hurt child.
"Get up!" he bawled.

"Get up, you worthless little cow! If you've spoiled any of those peaches or broke my basket, I'll cut the flesh off your bones." Sonya redoubled her wailing.