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She is sitting before a spinning-wheel, and is deftly drawing the wool through her fingers; brown little fingers they are, but none the less dear in his sight. "But surely until then Mona may lay claim to the title," says Violet, quickly. "Oh, it is dreadfully late!" says Mona, with much compunction. "Come, let us hurry.".
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Conrad
"What on earth is a shin?" puts in Geoffrey, sotto voce. "Speak lower," said the old woman, "or you may be heard. We have no good food because there is a great snake here who is the chief of the camp. He takes all the best pieces. He lives over there in that snake-painted lodge." "Fancy a turkey ghost," says Mona. "How ugly it would be. It would have all its feathers off, of course." "Well, I confess that puzzles me," says Mona, knitting her straight brows and scanning the small lady before her with earnest eyes, who is surrounded by at least a dozen men, with all of whom she is conversing without any apparent effort. "I really think she is the smallest woman I ever saw. Why, I am only medium height, but surely I could make two of her. At least I have more figure, or form, as you call it, than she has.".
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