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. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. “I don’t know, John, but I think there is something going on with Michelle. “My Mom was a good lady. She forced herself not to think of John. I don’t! Please enlighten me.
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