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"Jack is only Mr. Rodney too.",Silence. Mona taps the mound beside her with impatient fingers, her mind being evidently great with thought.,"I am content to stay here until the day dawns, if you keep me company," replies he, easily.,"Very," returns he, surprised. He has not thought of her as one versed in lore of any kind. "What poets do you prefer?","Jack is only Mr. Rodney too.","She is not a lady," says Lady Rodney, as though that should terminate the argument.,"I will help you. Bring only a knife.",After the land had been made, Old Man travelled about on it, making things and fixing up the earth so as to suit him. First, he marked out places where he wished the rivers to run, sometimes making them run smoothly, and again, in some places, putting falls on them. He made the mountains and the prairie, the timber and the small trees and bushes, and sometimes he carried along with him a lot of rocks, from which he built some of the mountains—as the Sweet Grass Hills—which stand out on the prairie by themselves.,Another pause. Mona is on thorns. Will the branching path, that may give her a chance of escaping a further tete-a-tete with him, never be reached?,"You have come," he says, with a quick sigh that be speaks relief. "I knew you would. I felt it; yet I feared. Oh, what comfort to see you again!","Go back to Bantry," says Mona, not heeding his evident surprise, "at once,—now. Do not delay. There are those waiting for you on the Tullymore road who will take your life. I have run all this way to warn you. Oh, go back, while there is yet time!","Her eyes certainly are——" says Geoffrey..