‘It is nothing. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. But I should certainly want to be rid of Mr. 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. His head turned sideways towards the noise, his brows scowling.
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