"Blow me to atoms, perhaps, or into some region unknown," says he, recklessly. "A good thing, too. Is life so sweet a possession that one need quail before the thought of resigning it?",
"You are talking too much," says Mona, nervously.,
"Are you sure?"—with cold severity. "It is only two days ago since you told me you loved nothing better than an easy-chair.".
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