Do you know of what I speak?” “I do, I do!” She said. 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. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them.
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