"Why?" demands her mistress, somewhat haughtily. "I suppose even the English gentleman, as you call him, can see butter with dying! Show him in at once.",
She is a very little girl, quite half a head shorter than Mona, and, now that one can see her more plainly as she stands on the hearthrug, something more than commonly pretty.,
"Go home now to your wife and your child, and when you are hungry hunt like any one else. If you do not, you shall die.".
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