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. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. That's the sort of fool your nephew is!" "Not even a good time!" said the aunt, whimsically, as she stuffed the bills into her reticule. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. Phillips Oppenheim *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANNA THE ADVENTURESS *** ***** This file should be named 26596-h. “Sure, but it’s not like you’re married, you know.
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