"Oh, no, I'm not clever," says Mona; "but"—nervously and with downcast eyes, addressing Geoffrey—"I might perhaps be able to make you a little more comfortable.",
"Bless me, Nolly, you are not going to be ill, are you?" says Geoffrey. "Such a burst of eloquence is rare.",
"I hope she has, poor soul: she will want it," says Geoffrey, feelingly; and then he falls to whistling the "Two Obadiahs" softly, yet with a relish, beneath his breath..
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