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. " "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. There was a photo of her that looked exactly like you. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned. Please don’t tell anyone, mister.
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