Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. “I suppose some one makes a bit on the food,” she said. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. "Where did you pick it up?" "I believe I told you; at Yale. " "You at least appear to forget that Mr.
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