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. "I did not come hither to consult you as to the state of my health, Sir," he observed, displeased by Jonathan's allusion to the alteration in his appearance. "But calm yourself, dear sister, or the interview will be too much for you. ’ ‘No, I wouldn’t have believed you. ‘I try to be.
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