Ann Veronica was not ready enough to deal with that counter-stroke. “You haven’t seen him in three hundred years?” He asked. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. 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.
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