"You dance, of course," says Lady Rodney, turning to Mona, a little ashamed, perhaps, of her late rudeness.,
Mona tries to say something,—anything that will be kind and sympathetic,—but words fail her. Her lips part, but no sound escapes them. The terrible reality of the moment terrifies and overcomes her.,
"I am glad of that," says Mona, nicely, as he pauses merely through a desire for breath, not from a desire for silence..
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