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But the deer began to grumble and said, "Well, it is true that out here on the prairie you have beaten me, but this is not where I live. I only come out here once in a while to feed or to cross the prairie when I am going somewhere. It would be fairer if we had a race in the timber. That is my home, and there I can run faster than you. I am sure of it." "If you have Jenkins on your side you are pretty safe," says Geoffrey. "My mother is more afraid of Jenkins than you would be of a land-leaguer. Well, good-by again. I must be off." "Is he dead?" she asks, in a whisper, pointing without looking at their late foe. Rodney, stooping, lays his hand on the ruffian's heart..
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It is a very curious little room they enter,—yet pretty, withal, and suggestive of care and affection, and certainly not one to be laughed at. Each object that meets the view seems replete with pleasurable memory,—seems part of its gentle mistress. There are two windows, small, and with diamond panes like the parlor, and in the far end is a piano. There are books, and some ornaments, and a huge bowl of sweetly-smelling flowers on the centre-table, and a bracket or two against the walls. Some loose music is lying on a chair. It is a command. With a last lingering glance at the woman who has enthralled him, he steps out through the window on to the balcony, and in another moment is lost to sight. Perhaps he is afraid for her. Perhaps it is a gentle hint to her that the truth will be best. Whatever it may be, Mona understands him not at all. His mother glances up sharply. And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue.
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