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Both girls looked pale and listless. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. 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. "I declare I'm all in a cold sweat. I was once a disciple of Saint Peter myself, and speak from experience. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. Degree! degree! She smiled on a gallant of high degree. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!.
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