It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by.
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