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The old man went to the camp and told his daughters of the meat that their husband had killed, and they went down to the killing ground. Then he went to his own lodge and said to his wife, "Hurry, now, put the stone kettle on the fire. I have brought home something from the killing." "No,"—slowly,—"I do not. If I did, I should not love you as—as I do." "I have indeed misunderstood you in many ways." This is unkind, and the emphasis makes it even more so. "Norah, if the butter is finished, you can go and feed the calves." There is a business-like air about her whole manner eminently disheartening to a lover out of court..
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Conrad
Mona, stooping, caresses them fondly. They are a part of her old life, and dear, therefore, to her own faithful heart. Having partly undressed, she sits down upon the hearthrug with them, and, with both their big heads upon her lap, sits staring into the fire, trying to while away with thought the hours that must elapse before Geoffrey can return to her again. At this point the house comes in view, and conversation languishes. The women give a small touch to their furs and laces, the men indulge in a final yawn that is to last them until the gates of Anadale close behind them again. Kŭt-o-yĭs´ followed up the stream to where the piskun was and there found many lodges of people. In the centre of the camp was a big lodge, and painted on it the figure of a bear. He did not go to this lodge, but went into a small lodge where two old women lived. When he had sat down they put food before him—lean dried meat and some belly fat. "Some of his ideas are lovely. You would like his poetry, I think.".
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