” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Lead, worth nothing at all until Hoddy picked them up; then they became full of magic.
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