" Mrs. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. The house became joyous again with the talk of babies and wedding festivities. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. The expression was wholly different. “I wrote it for you. Lucy spoke once they had turned the corner. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner.
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