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. But a far greater affliction was in store for her. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. A crowd was collected round the fellow, who was rapidly disposing of his stock. You'll live to hate chicken; and the man in you will rise up and demand strong drink. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. That for you!" And she snapped her fingers in his face.
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