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"Well, I can't, you know," with a sigh. "But no matter: you will enjoy the scenery even more by yourself." "Certainly dear. Who is it?" "Yes; it was her that called last week," returns her amiable mother-in-law, laying an unmistakable stress upon the pronoun..
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Conrad
For Geoffrey the prelude has been played, and now at last he knows it. Up and down the little hall he paces, his hands behind his back, as his wont when deep in day-dreams, and asks himself many a question hitherto unthought of. Can he—shall he—go farther in this matter? Then this thought presses to the front beyond all others:—"Does she—will she—ever love me?" "I am not so sure of that," says Mona, with admirable tact and an exquisite smile, "but I shouldn't mind spending an hour with you." "He is not strong, you see: a little thing knocks him up, and he is too impressionable for a public career. But you are different." Presently her cry is answered. A thick cloud of pigeons—brown and white and bronze and gray—come wheeling into sight from behind the old house, and tumble down upon her in a reckless fashion. They perch upon her head, her shoulders, her white soft arms, even her hands, and one, more adventurous than the rest, has even tried to find a slippery resting-place upon her bosom..
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