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Each was set with a large ruby that stared unwinkingly from its setting of pale gold. 'Eh! they'm like drops of blood! said Hazel. 'Like when fayther starts a-killing the pig. He's a hard un, is fayther, hard as b'rytes. I'm much obleeged to you, Mr. Reddin, but I dunna want 'em. I canna'd abear the sight of blood. 'Little fool! said Reddin. 'They're worth pounds.
'According to natural history she may be, but in my sight she's a bad dog. She shut her door with an air of finality. 'The old lady canna'd abear Foxy, said Hazel. 'Nobody likes Foxy. She was stubbornly determined that the world bore her a grudge because she loved Foxy. Perhaps she had discovered that the world has a sharp sword for the vulnerable, and that love is easily wounded.
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