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"Then I can only say I pity you," says Miss Mansergh, leaning back in her chair, with the air of one who would say, "Argument here is in vain." "No;" she might in all truth have added, "because I did not care to know," but what she does say (for incivility even to an enemy would be impossible to Mona) is, "I thought perhaps you might not like it." "But, Geoffrey, why should I be cold to your mother? Sure you wouldn't have me be uncivil to her, of all people?".

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"When you got the pistol so cleverly into your own possession, why on earth didn't you shoot him?" demands Mr. Darling, gloomily, who evidently feels bloodthirsty when he thinks of the Australian and his presumptuous admiration for the peerless Mona. "He is not my enemy. My dear boy, spare me a three-act drama. What has the man done, beyond wearing a few gaudy rings, and some oppressive neckties, that you should hate him as you do? It is unreasonable. And, besides, he is in all probability your cousin. Parkins and Slow declare they can find no flaw in the certificate of his birth; and—is not every man at liberty to claim his own?" "It is, miss; I know it, sir; but if the old man comes out an' finds the mare widout her bed, there'll be all the world to pay, an' he'll be screechin' mad." Then there is another pause, rather longer than the last, Lady Rodney trifles with the fan in a somewhat excited fashion, and Geoffrey gazes, man-like, at his boots. At last his mother breaks the silence..