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"Yes. And after Shakspeare, I like him best, and then Longfellow. Why do you speak in that tone? Don't you like him?",And, oh! she dances such a way,,"But I shouldn't like any one to touch it except you," says Mr. Rodney, truthfully. "Even now, as your fingers press it, I feel relief.",She walks deliberately forward and enters the cabin, Geoffrey closely following her.,Carthy, having caught Mona's arms from behind just a little above the elbow, holds her as in a vice. There is no escape, no hope! Finding herself powerless, she makes no further effort for freedom, but with dilated eyes and parted, bloodless lips, though which her breath comes in quick agonized gasps, waits to see her lover murdered almost at her feet. "Now say a short prayer," says Ryan, levelling his gun; "for yer last hour has come.","Am I not?" says he, humbly, putting on his carefully crestfallen air that has generally been found so highly successful. "Tell me my fault.",He lays his hands lightly on her arm, yet his touch seems to burn through her gown into her very flesh. He stoops towards her.,"You are hurt!" interrupts he, with passionate remorse. "I see it all now. Stepping into that hateful stream to save me, you injured yourself severely. You are in pain,—you suffer; whilst I——",Still evening on, and twilight gray,"Poor Mona!" says Geoffrey; "don't tell her about it, as remorse may sadden her.","I should like it too. And it could be managed, couldn't it? I suppose I could get you a dress.","Oh! if you mean by that you want to get rid of me, you might have said so long ago, without all this hinting," says Mr. Rodney, huffily, preparing to beat an indignant retreat..