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. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol.
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