"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.,
"No, you won't," interrupts his brother, smiling. "Though I think the poor child has done her duty now. Let him pass. It is he should hate me, not I him.",
"Mona! what are you going to say to me?".
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