'A council made of such as dare not speak,,
"But in that apron, miss, and wid yer arms bare-like, an' widout yer purty blue bow; law, Miss Mona, have sinse, an' don't ye now.",
"It is nearly over," he gasps, painfully. "Say good-by to me. Do not quite forget me, not utterly. Give me some small place in your memory, though—so unworthy.".
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