She found her foster father and Mike still awake, playing high stakes UNO at the dimly lit kitchen table. The stairs were outside but they had been covered with a thin plastic roof. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. 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.
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