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"Oh, Mona, if you could only know how wretched I was all last night," he says; "I never put in such a bad time in my life." There is triumph in her eye, and a malicious sparkle, and just a touch of rebellion. "But why?" asks Mona, in amaze. "Didn't he wear one?".

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He is evidently quite exhausted. His brow is moist, his eyes are sunken, his lips more pallid, more death-like than they were before. In little painful gasps his breath comes fitfully. Then all at once it occurs to Mona that though he is looking at her he does not see her. His mind has wandered far away to those earlier days when England was unknown and when the free life of the colony was all he desired. "I am afraid of her; I was never so afraid of any one before. I have made it the business of my life to avoid her ever since last New Year's Day, when some kind fellow told me it was leap-year. You know I never yet said 'No' to any one, and I shouldn't dare begin by saying it to Miss Cheviot. She has such a stony glare, and such a profusion of nose!" As he approached, an old woman, bent with age and crippled, came from the lodge door and looked at him. Broken Bow filled his pipe and, handed it to him. He lighted it by a brand from the fire, and sent great puffs of smoke curling upward. This smoke met the other smoke and stopped it. It could not descend any lower..