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"How brilliant the moonlight is to-night! See—watch"—eagerly—"how the shadows chase each other down the Ranger's Hill!" "Do not try to make me any commonplace speeches," says Rodney, marking her hesitation. He speaks hastily, yet with evident difficulty. "I am dying. Nothing, can alter that. But death has brought you to my side again, so I cannot repine." "Thanks. I shall try to believe you, though your mirth is somewhat out of place, and has a tendency towards heartlessness." (He is laughing too.) "Yet there have been instances," goes on Mr. Rodney, still smiling, while watching her intently, "when maiden aunts have taken a fancy to third sons, and have died leaving them lots of tin.".
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"Now, once for all, mother—" begins Nicholas, vehemently, but Geoffrey, with a gesture, silences him. "My dear fellow, you can't have forgotten it so soon," says Geoffrey, pretending to misunderstand this vehement whisper. "Don't be shy! or shall I refresh your memory? It was, you remember, about——" "I shall go," he says, doggedly, as though divining her secret wish. Now he takes advantage of this general permission, and closes them with a soft caress..
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