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. ‘Étes-vous Francais?’ Her eyes, he noted, followed from himself to Hilary and back again, but she did not speak. Free, there is nothing left to her but the canal. ’ Reminiscence made him smile. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind.
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