I packed them with the other few things I owned. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. 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. " For some reason she did not then understand, Ruth did not offer the information that Taber had another name.
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