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Having said all this without a break, Jenkins feels he has outdone himself, and retires on his laurels. "Dear Lady Rodney, you are really too kind," she says, in a tone soft and measured as usual, but without the sweetness. In her heart there is something that amounts as nearly to indignant anger as so thoroughly well-bred and well regulated a girl can feel. "You are better, I think," she says, calmly, without any settled foundation for the thought; and then she lays down the perfume-bottle, takes up her handkerchief, and, with a last unimportant word or two, walks out of the room. "Why should I marry?" replied the girl. "My father and mother take care of me. Our lodge is good; the parfleches are never empty; there are plenty of tanned robes and soft furs for winter. Why trouble me, then?".
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Broken Bow saw the wonderful medicine of his friend. He was no longer afraid, but wondered what Cold Maker would do next. The grizzly bears growled low. Every flower has opened wide its pretty eye, because the sun, that so long has been a stranger, has returned to them, and is gazing down upon them with ardent love. They—fond nurslings of an hour—accept his tardy attentions, and, though, still chilled and desolee because of the sad touches of winter that still remain, gaze with rapt admiration at the great Ph[oe]bus, as he sits enthroned above. "I hardly think our dance is ended yet, Mrs. Rodney," says the Australian, defiantly, coming leisurely forward, his eyes bent somewhat insolently upon Geoffrey. Night is creeping up over the land. Already in the heavens the pale crescent moon just born rides silently,—.
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