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She ceases, her work accomplished. The others in the room grow weak with fear, as they tell themselves that things are growing too dreadful to be borne much longer. When the silence is quite insupportable, poor little Dorothy struggles to the front. "Bonuvs," repeats Mona, a little louder, at which Lady Rodney sinks into a chair, as though utterly overcome. Nolly and Geoffrey are convulsed with laughter. Doatie is vainly endeavoring to keep them in order. "Oh! if you mean by that you want to get rid of me, you might have said so long ago, without all this hinting," says Mr. Rodney, huffily, preparing to beat an indignant retreat..
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The leaves and blossoms growing." "Oh, poor Nicholas!" says Mona sadly, "and poor little Doatie!" "Put it on you," says Geoffrey. "No," with a little flickering smile, that has pain and sorrow in it; "for the simple reason that I shall never marry.".
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