Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. 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. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. ‘I have only borrowed it. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly.
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