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"Will that take her long?" asks Mona, somewhat wistfully, feeling, without understanding, some want in his voice.,"It is true; I have." Then some other train of thought seems to rush upon him; and he goes on in a curious tone that is half mocking, yet wretched above every other feeling; "You had the best of me last night, had you not? And yet," with a sardonic laugh. "I'm not so sure, either. See here.","My bow is broken. I cannot," said Broken Bow sadly.,She has turned away from him, grieved and frightened by his vehemence, and, having plucked a leaf from the hedge near her, is trifling absently with it as it lies upon her little trembling palm.,And so they are married, and last words are spoken, and adieux said, and sad tears fall, and for many days her own land knows Mona no more.,"And to think we all sat pretty nearly every evening within a yard or two of that blessed will, and never knew anything about it!" he says, at last, in a tone of unmitigated disgust.,"She must be harder-hearted than I think her, if she can resist you," he says, fondly.,Of course this was on the day after their return to England, before his own people knew of their arrival.,In Montana, running into the Missouri River from the south, is a little stream that the Blackfeet call "It Fell on Them." Once, long, long ago, while a number of women were digging in a bank near this stream for the red earth that they used as paint, the bank gave way and fell on them, burying and killing them. The white people call this Armell's Creek.,"Insolence, sir, is perhaps another part of your role," returns she, with cold but excessive anger.,"Oh, no," says Mona, gently; "only I should like you better, of course, if you were not the cause of our undoing.","And what has brought you?" demands she, not rudely or quickly, but as though desirous of obtaining information on a subject that puzzles her..