The place for reading. 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. Yes, yes; that was all very well in ordinary cases; but yonder was a soul in travail, if ever she had seen one. If they come here to walk around, they will hear us. She had no place she loved. It is always on his person.
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