The contest was now carried on between Rowland and Darrell. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. ” “But how?” “I poured him out some port wine, and I said—let me see—oh, ‘You are going to be a grandfather!’” “Yes. ’ He flushed. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Suddenly he stopped short. "What was it?" He was insistent.
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