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"It is very hard on Sir Nicholas," says Mona, who would not call him "Nick" now for the world. "That is what fickle people say. But what one feels one remembers." "Well, but it was a little hard on your father, wasn't it?" says Mona, gently..
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"Let me go, Mona," says Geoffrey, forcing her arms from round him and almost flinging her to one side. It is the first and last time he ever treats a woman with roughness. She turns involuntarily, through the innate courtesy that belongs to her race, to return his parting salutation, and, looking at him, sees a tiny spot of blood trickling down his forehead from the wound received awhile since. After that the little girl who was watching came into the lodge and said, "Pity me, man-eater, my mother is hungry and asks you for those bones." The old man gathered them together and handed them to her, and she took them out of the lodge. When she had gone a little way, she called all the dogs to her and threw down the bones to the dogs, crying out, "Look out, Kŭt-o-yĭs´, the dogs are eating you," and when she said that, Kŭt-o-yĭs´ arose from the pile of bones. "It is pretty, I think," she says. "The duke," with a grave look, "gave it to me just two years after my son was born.".
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