Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's. 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. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. We have that gift.
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