Eventually this comradeship (slightly resented by Rollo) reached a point where he could call out from the study: "Hey, Ruth!—come and tell me what you think of this. ‘You usually do,’ he said lightly. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. " "You believe it, father?" "From the bottom of my heart. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud.
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