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"'My love in her attire doth show her wit;,The inference is full of saddest meaning. Even Geoffrey feels the tears rise unbidden to his eyes.,"Put it on you," says Geoffrey.,At the farthest end of the room, near a window, lying back in an arm-chair, lies Mona, sound asleep.,In an instant they are locked in each other's arms. Ryan wrestles violently, but is scarcely a match for Rodney, whose youth and training tell, and who is actually fighting for dear life. In the confusion the gun goes off, and the bullet, passing by Rodney's arm, tears away a piece of the coat with it, and also part of the flesh. But this he hardly knows till later on.,"And 'A dumb priest loses his benefice,'" quotes Mona, in her turn, almost gayly too.,"Could you?" she says hopefully. "How?",Sir Nicholas, having gone leisurely through two of his letters, opens a third, and begins to peruse it rather carelessly. But hardly has he gone half-way down the first page when his face changes; involuntarily his fingers tighten over the luckless letter, crimping it out of all shape. By a supreme effort he suppresses an exclamation. It is all over in a moment. Then he raises his head, and the color comes back to his lips. He smiles faintly, and, saying something about having many things to do this morning, and that therefore he hopes they will forgive his running away from them in such a hurry he rises and walks slowly from the room.,"You are pleased to talk conundrums," says Rodney, with a shrug. "I confess my self sufficiently dull to have never guessed one.","You must understand," she says emphatically, "he did not shoot himself purposely. It was an accident,—a pure accident.","As things are so unsettled, Nicholas, perhaps we had better put off our dance," says Lady Rodney, presently. "It may only worry you, and distress us all.","Wouldn't they?" says Rodney, leaning on his elbow as the argument waxes warmer; "then all I can say is, I never met any 'other people.'".