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. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. Winny, show the person into this room. The door closed softly upon her. "The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool.
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