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"You will be near too, Geoffrey?" murmurs Mona, falteringly. "No, indeed," says Mona, laughing. "But it surely wasn't English, was it? That is not the way everybody talks, surely." Never afterwards will she forget the glance of gratitude that meets hers, and that lights up all his face, even his dim eyes, as she grants him this gentle pitiful caress..
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Conrad
"What a disagreeable-looking man that is over there!" she says: "the man with the shaggy beard, I mean, and the long hair." "Except that my hair is rolled up, and is too dark, isn't it? I have read about her, and I once saw a picture of Marguerite in the Gallery in Dublin, and it was very beautiful. I remember it brought tears to my eyes, and Aunt Anastasia said I was too fanciful to be happy. Her story is a very sad one, isn't it?" Far from being disconcerted, this farmyard goddess is not even ashamed (as indeed how could she be?) of her naked arms, and, coming up to him, rests them upon the upper rung of the entrance-gate and surveys him calmly if kindly. "What a shame!" says Mona, angrily. Then she changes her note, and says, with a soft, low, mocking laugh, "How I pity you!".
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