It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. \"You look great!\" \"Thanks. 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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