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"Send down to the Farm, and I will give you some brandy," says Mona to a woman standing by, after a lengthened gaze at the prostrate form of Kitty, who makes no sign of life. "She wants it." Laying her hand on Kitty's shoulder, she shakes her gently. "Rouse yourself," she says, kindly, yet with energy. "Try to think of something,—anything except your cruel misfortune." At the farthest end of the room, near a window, lying back in an arm-chair, lies Mona, sound asleep. "No," with a little flickering smile, that has pain and sorrow in it; "for the simple reason that I shall never marry.".
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
The description is graphic, certainly. "Ah," they replied, "he is dead. Five days ago he went out to hunt and he did not come back. What shall we do? We have lost him who cared for us"; and they cried and mourned again. She has crossed the rustic bridge that leads into the Moore plantations, in hot pursuit of a young turkey that is evidently filled with a base determination to spend his Sunday out. "Very.".
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