He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. “Well?” “I don’t care a rap for all these things.
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