‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. "Far from, it, Sir. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. 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 girls had such freedom, a wonderful chance afforded to them to go out in the wide world before making babies, it was nothing like the world she had come of age in. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. ” “But how?” “I poured him out some port wine, and I said—let me see—oh, ‘You are going to be a grandfather!’” “Yes.
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