"Oh, no; because if you can sing at all—that is correctly, and without false notes—you must feel music and love it.",
Sleep, even when she does get to bed, refuses to settle upon Mona's eyelids. During the rest of the long hours that mark the darkness she lies wide awake, staring upon vacancy, and thinking ceaselessly until,
"Say I am quite forgiven," he pleads, earnestly, his eyes on hers..
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