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. If he had eaten food, this wouldn't have happened. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. D. Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. It simply doesn’t count.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMC4xMjAuMTYxIC0gMTMtMDYtMjAyNCAwODowMToxMSAtIDQ0MzA0Nzky
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