Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. 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. ‘Obsessed, that’s what you are. “Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley. He jumped back, wrenching the sword away. This was in Tennessee. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her.
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