The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. Mrs. ‘What do you mean?’ Gerald grinned. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland.
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