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"And the child,—Miss Mona?" asks Geoffrey. She uncovers her eyes, and glances for a bare instant at Rodney. Then once more the heavily-fringed lids close upon the dark-blue eyes, as if to hide the anguish in them, and in a smothered voice she says, with clenched teeth and a face like marble, "Yes, you may kiss me,—if you will." The antelope felt so glad and proud that he had beaten the deer in the race that he was sure that wherever they might run he could beat him, so he said, "All right, I will run you a race in the timber. I have beaten you out here on the flat and I can beat you there." On this race they bet their dew-claws..
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To her it is always as though he is devoid of name. It is always "he" and "his" and "him," all through, as though no other man existed upon earth. "Come in, Dorothy. I want to speak to you." "I don't quite know," says Mona, slowly, "but what Uncle Brian principally studies is—pigs!" "Sure, now, you're too hard on us, Miss Mona. We're innocent of it. Our hands are clean as yer own. We nivir laid eyes on him since yesterday till this blessed minit. Ye should remember that, miss.".
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