" "You hear, my son," said the widow eagerly. She left for good after he fell asleep. 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. "Hold!" interposed Thames, "he can do no more mischief.
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