Her efforts were vain. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. 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.
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