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. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. Thames said not another word, but marched boldly towards him, and seized him by the collar. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers.
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