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"Well, really, do you know, I think she did!" says Mona, so demurely that they all smile again. Yet does she not triumph over her beaten foe; nay, so different is it with her that she reaches forth her hand to raise her again, and strives by every tender means in her power to obliterate all memory of the unpleasant past. "Then the people who send them should be ashamed! But what about the other half of their time that they spend from home?".
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Conrad
He has so far recovered his courage that he has taken her hand, and is now holding it in a close grasp; and Mona, though a little frown still lingers on her low, broad forehead, lets her hand so lie without a censure. She doesn't want in the very least to know who he is, but thinks it her duty to say something, as the silence being protracted grows embarrassing. Though uncertain that she regards him with any feeling stronger than that of friendliness (because of the strange coldness that she at times affects, dreading perhaps lest he shall see too quickly into her tender heart), yet instinctively he knows that he is welcome in her sight, and that "the day grows brighter for his coming." Still, at times this strange coldness puzzles him, not understanding that And all the land is rich with angry beauty beneath the rays of the cold moon, that.
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