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"Long or short," said he, with absent hands in his horse's mane, "will lie with Fate, and she, my lads, is a dour jade with a secret It'll be long if ye mind of me, and unco short if ye forget me till I return." I went up and said farewell. I but shook his hand, and my words were few and simple. That took him, for he was always quick to sound the depth of silent feeling. "Mo thruadh! mo thruadh!
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