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"No!" says Nicholas; meaning, "How very delightful!" "She is Lord Steyne's second daughter. The family name is Darling. Her name is Dorothy." "That was very nasty of me," confesses Mona. "Yet," with a sigh, "perhaps I was right.".
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Each dark-green leaf in the long shrubberies bears its own sparkling burden. The birds hide shivering in the lourestine—that in spite of frost and cold is breaking into blossom,—and all around looks frozen. Mona looks up startled. The faint rays of the new-born moon are indeed rushing through the casement, and are flinging themselves languidly upon the opposite wall, but they are pale and wan, as moonlight is in its infancy, and anything but brilliant. Besides, Rodney's eyes are turned not on them, but on the door that can be seen just over Mona's head, where no beams disport themselves, however weakly. "Quite sure," returns her future mother-in law, grimly. "I never speak, Dorothy, without foundation for what I say." "How strange it is!" says Mona's voice, that has now a faint shade of sadness in it. "How people come and go in one's lives, like the waves of the restless sea, now breaking at one's feet, now receding, now——".
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