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"Give it to me!" cries she, impulsively, her voice, trembling. "It is the missing will. You found it last night. It belongs to Nicholas. You must—nay," softly, beseechingly, "you will give it to me." After one turn she stops abruptly, near an entrance. But Mr. Rodney is determined to "have it out with her," as he himself would say, before consenting to fade away out of her sight..
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"Keep your kiss," exclaims he, savagely, "since it cost you such an effort to give it, and keep the parchment too. It is yours because of my love for you." "I have no card but my name is Geoffrey Rodney," says the young man, turning to his companion. On a low bed, with his eyes fastened eagerly upon the door, lies Paul Rodney, the dews of death already on his face. "Did he?" says Mona. "Geoffrey gave me these pearls," pointing to a pretty string round her own white neck, "a month after we were married. It seems quite a long time ago now," with a sigh and a little smile. "But your opals are perfect. Just like the moonlight. By the by," as if it has suddenly occurred to her, "did you ever see the lake by moonlight? I mean from the mullioned window in the north gallery?".
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