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. But the young man with the orange tie remained in his place, disputing whether the body had not something or other which he called its legitimate claims. Oh! my dear, dear son, be warned in time. Everyone will grumble to you confidentially—Miss Ellicot, she’s our swagger young lady, you know—up there, next to Miss White, she will tell you that it is so out of the world here, so far away from everyone one knows. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. All of a sudden, there was movement behind him. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the door, and burst into a loud laugh. “But if my manner tells! I cannot help it if that shows. Leastways, not on your own.
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