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But travelling over the prairie was a wolf that climbed up on the butte and came to the hole and, looking in, saw the man and pitied him. "Mona, it is—it must be!" says Geoffrey, taking her hand; and so they both stand, almost breathless, on the high bank, listening intently. "The loose train of thy amber-drooping hair.".
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Conrad
KŬT-O-YĬS´, THE BLOOD BOY After a little time she succeeds in partially lifting the cloud that has fallen on her brother. He has grown strangely fond of her, and finds comfort in her gentle eyes and sympathetic mouth. Like all the rest, he has gone down before Mona, and found a place for her in his heart. He is laughing at some merry absurdity of hers, and is feeling braver, more hopeful, when a little chill seems to pass over him, and, turning, he confronts a tall dark young man who has come leisurely—but with a purpose—to where he and Mona are standing. "Well, on the principle that fine feathers make fine birds, I suppose they do," acknowledges Geoffrey, reluctantly. "I don't think I am," says Mona; "but the thought of meeting people for the first time makes me feel nervous. Is your mother tall, Geoffrey?".
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