‘Possibly,’ he said. 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. I'm going to be frank; we must have a clear understanding. “This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. He did so care for you. "You read it, Ruth.
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