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"What are you thinking of?" asks Mona, softly, breaking in upon his soliloquy. "Well, I shall go and judge of Killarney myself some day," he says, idly. "How is this, grandmothers?" he said. "Here is a camp with plenty of fat meat and back fat hanging up to dry; why do you not give me some of that?".
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Just at this moment he is coming down through brake and furze, past tangling blackberry-bushes that are throwing out leaves of brilliant crimson and softest yellow, and over rustling leaves, towards the farm that holds his divinity. In the night, when all were sleeping, Napi and the young man arose in their right shapes and ate some of the meat. "If on Friday night there is a good moon," says Rodney, boldly, "will you take me, as you promised, to see the Bay?" "Yes, it is strange why that wall should be different from the others," Mona says, rather glad that he appears interested in something besides herself. "But it is altogether quite a nice old room, is it not?".
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