She brought the unconscious man down. I hope—I am sure that he did not see me. He turned his back on that temptation. 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 could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave.
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