She has even found them accommodation in the house where she is putting up herself. “I mean to go to that dance!” she blubbered. 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. ’ He grimaced. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it.
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