"Well, he won't do that here. I shall make no defence. ” “Do you drink blood?” He stood up. He felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. 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. He could only wonder that this amazing thing had remained so long a secret to him.
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