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"If on Friday night there is a good moon," says Rodney, boldly, "will you take me, as you promised, to see the Bay?" "Is it?" says she, a little wistfully. "You think so now; but if afterwards you should know regret, or——" "I don't care about the county. It must think what it likes; and when it knows her it will sympathize with me. Oh! what a name! Scully! Was there ever so dreadful a name?".
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Conrad
"It was very unkind," says Mona; "and he has a hateful face." "Oh, my lady, if I must speak," cries the old man, "but it is terrible news to tell without a word of warning. Mr. Paul Rodney is dying: he shot himself half an hour ago, and is lying now at Rawson's Lodge in the beech wood." "Oh, if I could be quite, quite sure you would never regret it!" says Mona, wistfully. CHAPTER XXVII..
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