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Sat the lovers, and whispered together.' "You are very kind. The river is greatly swollen," she says, to gain time. Geoffrey, perhaps, will not like her to accept any civility at the hands of this common enemy. "Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale.
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"Is that the girl who spoke to you, Geoffrey, at the tea room door?" asks Mona, with some animation. The other smiles faintly. He is evidently glad because of Geoffrey's words, but speech is now very nearly impossible to him. His attempt to rise, to point out the imaginary moonlight to Mona, has greatly wasted his small remaining stock of life, and now but a thin partition, frail and broken, lies between him and that inexorable Rubicon we all must one day pass. Sinking into the cushioned embrasure of the window, Mona sits entranced, drinking in the beauty that is balm to her imaginative mind. The two dogs, with a heavy sigh, shake themselves, and then drop with a soft thud upon the ground at her feet,—her pretty arched feet that are half naked and white as snow: their blue slippers being all too loose for them. "I have only one thought," says the woman, sullenly, "I can't betther it. An' that is, that it was a bitther day when first I saw the light.".
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