"But I like Bobby Burns best. And, in applying the term to his friend, Thames meant to pay him a high compliment. 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. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope.
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