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"Name it!" exclaims she, seeing he still hesitates. Mona, turning, confronts the frightened group in the corner, both men and women, with a face changed and aged by grief and indignation. Several nights had passed since the signs warned him to turn back, but notwithstanding the warnings, he had succeeded. Perhaps his success had made him too confident. He longed for more of it. "One more scalp I shall take," he said, "and then I will return to the people.".
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"Perhaps it will all come right at last. Oh! if some kind good fairy would but come to our aid and help us to confound our enemies!" "Yes, I do," says Mona, truthfully. "Just now, at least. Perhaps"—sadly—"when I am your age I sha'n't." "Oh, yes, they will," returns Doatie, emphatically, "They will probably hear a great deal of it! I shall speak of it morning, noon, and night, until out of sheer vexation of spirit they will come in a body and entreat you to remove me. Ah!" regretfully, "if only I had a fortune now, how sweet it would be! I never missed it before. We are really very unfortunate." "Don't be unkind to me," says Mona, with just a touch of innocent and bewitching coquetry. She is telling herself she likes this absurd young man better than any one she has met since she came to England, except perhaps Sir Nicholas..
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