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"What is it?" "O'er the dark her silver mantle throws;" She stands well back from Geoffrey, and then, without any of the foolish, unlovely bashfulness that degenerates so often into awkwardness in the young, begins her dance..
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Conrad
"Then you have something on your mind. You have not been your usual perfect self all the morning." "And three-quarters. Don't deceive yourself, my dear fellow: they can't be here one moment before a quarter to eight." To-morrow will be market-day in Bantry, to which the week's butter must go; and now the churning is over, and the result of it lies cold and rich and fresh beneath Mona's eyes. She herself is busily engaged printing little pats off a large roll of butter that rests on the slab before her; her sleeves are carefully tucked up, as on that first day when Geoffrey saw her; and in defiance of her own heart—which knows itself to be sad—she is lilting some little foolish lay, bright and shallow as the October sunshine that floods the room, lying in small silken patches on the walls and floor. "Be quite sure," returns she, smiling..
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