"I read those stories. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. “I feel justified then,” he said, “in annexing his chair. “That’s what we narcs have to do. ’ ‘He doesn’t sound like a desirable parti. He uttered a short laugh. Two shots were fired at him by Jonathan; one of which passed through his hat, and the other through the fleshy part of his arm; but he made good his retreat. 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. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly.
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