Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. Of course, why not? She would be honest, anyhow! She turned her eyes to Manning. I suppose I believe in God. ‘She’s gone. Every one has to make a deal with the world. ” “But what have I done?” “Elope! Go off in this way.
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