His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. When she spoke, her lips twitched. 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. Will you let me go out of this room?” “No,” cried Ramage; “hear me out! I’ll have that satisfaction, anyhow. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit. Here I am. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound.
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