“This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. Borne along by the current, Darrell was instantly at the boat's side. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Apparently I’m not to exist yet. " And thus their domesticity at McClintock's began—with the tubbing of a stray yellow dog.
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