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"Oh, yes, thank you," says Mona, who is both surprised and carried away by the other's unexpected eloquence. "No, no; I think not. Come here, Geoffrey; do. It is the queerest thing,—like a riddle. See!" And then she sings again, some old-world song of love and chivalry that awakes within one a quick longing for a worthier life. Her sweet voice rings through the room, now glad with triumph, now sad with a "lovely melancholy," as the words and music sway her. Her voice is clear and pure and full of pathos! She seems to follow no rule; an "f" here or a "p" there, on the page before her, she heeds not, but sings only as her heart dictates..
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Conrad
"I bear you no illwill; you mistake me," says Mona, quietly: "I am only sorry for Nicholas, because I do love him." "Oh, no! you don't look like that," says Mona, with a heavenly smile. "You do not seem like a man that could not be 'trusted.'" "Certainly dear. Who is it?" As she comes to the gravel walk that leads from the shrubberies to the sweep before the hall door, she encounters the disgraced Ridgway, doing something or other to one of the shrubs that has come to grief during the late bad weather..
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