’ The snaking suspicion rolled through his mind again. 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. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. “My mom is making duck. ‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. CHAPTER XXI.
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