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She turns involuntarily, through the innate courtesy that belongs to her race, to return his parting salutation, and, looking at him, sees a tiny spot of blood trickling down his forehead from the wound received awhile since. "Oh, not yet!" entreats faithful Mona, in a miserable tone; "not yet. Remember what I said. I promised to remain with him until the very end." But Mona's eyes see nothing but one object only..
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Conrad
"Do you think you are stronger than I am?" he says, amusement blended with the old admiration in his eyes. "'Alas for the rarity "You can waltz?" Altogether she is a picture, which, if slightly suggestive of artificiality, is yet very nearly perfection. Mona is therefore agreeably surprised, and, being—as all her nation is—susceptible to outward beauty, feels drawn towards this odd young woman in sickly green, with her canine friend beside her..
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