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 tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. Jack's life hangs on your determination. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. Of course, if at any time—see reason—alter your opinion. She did not speak to John in the week of school left after the Prom.
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