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. ’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. Promise me that you will not disobey the injunctions of her whose memory we must both of us ever revere.
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