Geoffrey is rushing hither and thither, without his hat, and without his temper, in a vain endeavor to secure the rebel and reduce him to order. He is growing warm, and his breath is coming more quickly than is exactly desirable; but, being possessed with the desire to conquer or die, he still holds on. He races madly over the ground, crying "Shoo!" every now and then (whatever that may mean) in a desperate tone, as though impressed with the belief that this simple and apparently harmless expletive must cow the foe.,
Oh, hame, hame—hame fain wad I be,,
"Is—is Violet Mansergh a pretty girl?" asks Mona, grasping instinctively at the fact that any one called Violet Mansergh may be a possible rival..
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