It was clear she wanted to get away from home, that she was impatient to get away from home. ” She could have handled ten times the weight, and hoisted him on her back and carried him too. 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. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. It is you who took my name, not I yours. Walpole, and then to Newgate. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression.
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