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"Yes, you do," says Mona, with a little obstinate shake of her head. "You call us dirty, for one thing." "It is not more extraordinary, surely, than calling a drunken young man 'tight,'" says Lady Rodney, with calm but cruel meaning. "Well, just wait till I tuck up the tail of my gown," says Mrs. Geoffrey, airily flinging her pale-blue skirt over her white bare arm..
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At the farthest end of the room, near a window, lying back in an arm-chair, lies Mona, sound asleep. "Ah! now, I have disturbed you," says Mrs. Geoffrey, pathetically, to whom lovers are a rare delight and a sacred study. "How stupid of me! Sure you needn't have come out, when you knew it was only me. And of course he wants you, poor dear fellow. I thought you were in the small drawing-room, or I shouldn't have called you at all." "But there you are wrong. There need be no dissensions; my mother and I are very good friends, and she expects us both to go to the Towers on Friday next." So he takes her hand, and together they lean over the brink and survey themselves in Nature's glass. Lightly their faces sway to and fro as the running water rushes across the pool,—sway, but do not part; they are always together, as though in anticipation of that happy time when their lives shall be one. It seems like a good omen; and Mona, in whose breast rests a little of the superstition that lies innate in every Irish heart, turns to her lover and looks at him..
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