"Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. 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. Hear me then, now, before I take one step to establish my origin, or secure my rights. ‘It is imbecile that you are.
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