"Yet she would renounce her love, would betray him for the sake of filthy lucre," says Mona, gravely. "I cannot understand that.",
"No, I am not. Anything but that; and to be rude"—slowly—"answers no purpose. But I have some common sense, I hope.",
"I wish you would not talk of being buried," says Mona, with a sob. "There is no comfort in the tomb: there our dust may mingle, but in heaven our souls shall meet, I trust,—I hope.".
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