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The last lodge had been set up in the Blackfeet winter camp. Evening was closing over the travel-tired people. The sun had dropped beyond the hills not far away. Women were bringing water from the river at the edge of the great circle. Men gathered in quiet groups, weary after the long march of the day. Children called sleepily to each other, and the dogs sniffed about in well-fed content.,"Where are we now?" says Geoffrey, suddenly, stopping and facing "the boy.","There were," confesses Geoffrey, reluctantly, and in a low tone. "I wish now from my soul it had been otherwise. I regret much that has taken place.","I did mean it. Of course I cannot marry you," says Mona, but rather weakly. The night has left her in a somewhat wavering frame of mind.,"Then I will sing you a song I was sent last week," says Mona, and forthwith sings him "Years Ago," mournfully, pathetically, and with all her soul, as it should be sung. Then she gives him "London Bridge," and then "Rose-Marie," and then she takes her fingers from the piano and looks at him with a fond hope that he will see fit to praise her work.,"Yes; it was her that called last week," returns her amiable mother-in-law, laying an unmistakable stress upon the pronoun.,She is still wondering vaguely who he can be, when he breaks the silence.,"I don't think I understand you," she says, at length, gravely. "Where would the rest of her be, if she wasn't all in the same place?",Then there is silence for a full minute, during which Miss Mansergh casts a reproachful glance at the irrepressible Jack.,The young man answered, "I am mourning for my wife. She died some time ago. I am looking for her.",Here Mona and Dorothy grow suddenly deeply interested, and lean forward.,"This much," says Rodney, laughing again: "I am going to marry her, with her leave.".