" "But I've got to go!" insisted Rollo, in perfectly understandable dog-talk. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. I just don’t know where to start. Do you know that this becomes a habit?” “If you would only teach us all,” he murmured, “how to acquire it. Spurlock was fond of dogs; he was fond of this offspring of many mesalliances; but he never made any attempt to win Rollo, to share him.
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