"But you told me no maiden aunt had ever come to your assistance," goes on Mona, remorselessly.,
"Ah!" says Mona, springing to her feet, and turning to the door, as though to summon aid; but he stops her by a gesture.,
Altogether she is a picture, which, if slightly suggestive of artificiality, is yet very nearly perfection. Mona is therefore agreeably surprised, and, being—as all her nation is—susceptible to outward beauty, feels drawn towards this odd young woman in sickly green, with her canine friend beside her..
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