"So do I, often,—very often," says Mr. Rodney, sadly still, but genially.,
"Fancy a turkey ghost," says Mona. "How ugly it would be. It would have all its feathers off, of course.",
"No, no," she says; "all is different now, you know, and you should never have come here again at all; but"—with charming inconsequence—"why did you go away last evening without bidding me good-night?".
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