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To and fro they sway, and then both men fall heavily to the ground. Presently they are on their feet again, but this time Rodney is master of the unloaded gun. Her eyes are large and blue, with a shade of green in them; her lips are soft and mobile; her whole expression is debonnaire, yet full of tenderness. She is brightness itself; each inward thought, be it of grief or gladness, makes itself outwardly known in the constant changes of her face. Her hair is cut above her forehead, and is quite golden, yet perhaps it is a degree darker than the ordinary hair we hear described as yellow. To me, to think of Dorothy Darling's head is always to remind myself of that line in Milton's "Comus," where he speaks of "Most fortunate," says Rodney, with deep gravity. "I consider I have been the means of preventing a public calamity. Why, that bird might have haunted us later on.".
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"Ah! Then you refuse to answer me," says Mona, hastily, if somewhat wearily. After a little while, pausing beside a doorway, she casts an upward glance at her companion. From the cabins pale wreaths of smoke rise slowly, scarce stirred by the passing wind. Going by one of these small tenements, before which the inevitable pig is wallowing in an unsavory pool, a voice comes to him, fresh and joyous, and plainly full of pleasure, that thrills through his whole being. It is to him what no other voice ever has been, or ever can be again. It is Mona's voice! 'Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,.
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