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. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. “I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly. I just wanted a breath of air. I'm about to leave this country for ever. It was not for a week or a month. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love.
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