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. ‘Wait! No time for that. She was caught by an uncle, whose opinion she valued, making faces at Roddy because he had exulted at this. Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. That is what my mother used to call me.
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