She is sitting before a spinning-wheel, and is deftly drawing the wool through her fingers; brown little fingers they are, but none the less dear in his sight.,
"Oh! catch him! do catch him!" cries Mona, "Look, there he is again! Don't you see?" with growing excitement. "Over there, under that bush. Why on earth can't you see him? Ha! there he is again! Little wretch! Turn him back, Geoffrey; it is our last chance.",
"They would be, of course," says the duchess..
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