\" He said. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. "What is this!" cried Sir Rowland. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. ’ Then she frowned. He too, when she had disappeared, called a carriage. Like carpenter, like chips. "For me—his master, Mr. .
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