There was no longer any risk in association with her. I don’t care WHAT happens. You are the woman I love, Anna. 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. "You knew better than to bring her here under the circumstances. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits.
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