It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. Oh, wait!’ She seized Jack’s arm as he was about to go out of the room. 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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