Ruth came to him directly. ” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. Fifty sent home. It was drafty and cold most of the time, but she found that she was not nearly as sensitive to the cold as long as he was 99 there to warm her up. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. 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. ’ She shook her head. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. ‘Oh, mon dieu.
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