"Rowland," said Lady Trafford, regarding him with a look of indescribable anxiety, "you have assured me that I shall behold my son. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. Gives you a right to hang on to the old man until he busts—practically. "I can, and will. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like. Ann Veronica decided to be more explicit. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring.
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