"I hardly think this is Sunday work," she says, lightly; "but the poor little thing would have died if left out all night. Wasn't it well you saw him?",
Down from the mountain's top the shadows are creeping stealthily: all around is growing dim, and vague, and mysterious, in the uncertain light.,
He finishes; but, to his amazement, and a good deal to his chagrin, on looking at Mona he finds she is wreathed in smiles,—nay, is in fact convulsed with silent laughter..
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