"Blow me to atoms, perhaps, or into some region unknown," says he, recklessly. "A good thing, too. Is life so sweet a possession that one need quail before the thought of resigning it?",
"You will be near too, Geoffrey?" murmurs Mona, falteringly.,
"And three-quarters. Don't deceive yourself, my dear fellow: they can't be here one moment before a quarter to eight.".
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