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"It is illiterate writing, certainly; and the whole concern dilapidated to the last degree," goes on Rodney, still regarding the soiled paper with curiosity mingled with aversion. "Any objection to my putting it in the fire?" "Tell your boy to go to the kitchen," says Mona, thoughtfully, and, Paddy being disposed of, she and Geoffrey go on to the house. "You have something important to say to me," says Mona, presently, seeing he will not speak: "at least, so your letter led me to believe.".
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Mona shivers. Getting up from her lowly position, she draws back the curtains of her window and looks out upon the night. It is brilliant with moonlight, clear as day, full of that hallowed softness, that peaceful serenity, that belongs alone to night. "I hate women with common sense. In plainer language it means no heart." "Oh, why did you come?" she said to her father. "They will surely kill you." Her voice falters. Instinctively she looks round for help. She feels deserted,—alone. No one speaks. Sir Nicholas and Violet, who are in the room, are as yet almost too shocked to have command of words; and presently the silence becomes unbearable..
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