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 know my life is valuable to you, or you would not spare it. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. Jests are not for seasons like this. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. "Do not endanger yourself on my account," rejoined his mother.
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