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"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?" "I bear you no illwill; you mistake me," says Mona, quietly: "I am only sorry for Nicholas, because I do love him." He does not see Mona until he is within a yard of her, a thick bush standing between him and her. Being always a creature of impulse, she has stood still on seeing him, and is lost in wonder as to who he can be. One hand is lifting up her gown, the other is holding together the large soft white fleecy shawl that covers her shoulders, and is therefore necessarily laid upon her breast. Her attitude is as picturesque as it is adorable..
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Conrad
In manner he is somewhat indolent, silent, perhaps lazy. But there is about him a subtle charm that endears him to all who know him. Perhaps it is his innate horror of offending the feelings of any one, be he great or small, and perhaps it is his inborn knowledge of humanity, and the power he possesses (with most other sensitive people) of being able to read the thoughts of those with whom he comes in contact, that enables him to avoid all such offence. Perhaps it is his honesty, and straightforwardness, and general, if inactive, kindliness of disposition. "Nonsense! Would you have me believe you are afraid of her?" "I am very glad I did," replies he, doggedly. "At least I have seen you. They cannot take that from me. I shall always be able to call the remembrance of your face my own." "Yes," says Mona, devoutly hoping he is going to say he means to refuse it. But such devout hope is wasted..
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