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"Oh, he is only called Sir Nicholas. Nobody thinks much of that. A baronet is really never of the slightest importance," says Geoffrey, anxiously, feeling exactly as if he were making an apology for his brother. "Then, thank you, Mrs. Corcoran, I will have a potato," says Rodney, gratefully, honest hunger and the knowledge that it will please Mona to be friendly with "her people," as she calls them, urging him on. "I'm as hungry as I can be," he says. Starting convulsively at the sound of her cry, he turns, and, drawing with lightning rapidity a tiny pistol from his pocket, raises his arm, and deliberately covers her..
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"Is she? It is too late for her to be out," returns Geoffrey, thinking of the chill evening air. "Now I am quite, quite happy," says Mona, and, rising from her knees, she goes back again to Geoffrey, and stands beside him. "Tell them all about last night," she says, looking up at him, "and the secret cupboard." "Think of it now, Paul,—now before it is too late," entreats she, piteously. "Try to pray: there is always mercy." One night all the wolves went down to the pen to get meat, and when they had come close to it, the man-wolf said to his brothers, "Stop here for a little while and I will go down and fix the places so that you will not be caught." He went down to the pen and sprung all the snares, and then went back and called the wolves and the others—the coyotes, badgers, and kit-foxes—and they all went into the pen and feasted and took meat to carry home to their families. In the morning the people found the meat gone and all their snares sprung, and they were surprised and wondered how this could have happened. For many nights the nooses were pulled tight and the meat taken; but once when the wolves went there to eat they found only the meat of a lean and sickly bull. Then the man-wolf was angry, and he cried out like a wolf, "Bad-food-you-give-us-o-o-o! Bad-food-you-give-us-o-o-o-o!".
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