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"They didn't get on for long," he says, mournfully,—and what voice is so full of melancholy as the Irish voice when it sinks into sadness? "When the little one—Mona—was barely five years old, they went to ground; Mount Jerome got them. Fever it was; and it carried 'em both off just while ye'd have time to look round ye. Poor souls, they went to the blessed land together. Perhaps the Holy Virgin knew they would have got on badly without each other anywhere." "What a disagreeable-looking man that is over there!" she says: "the man with the shaggy beard, I mean, and the long hair." "I am afraid you went to almost the worst part of Ireland," says Mona, shaking her head. "New Pallas, and all round Limerick, is so dreadfully disloyal.".
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Conrad
"Do not ever speak to me like that again," says Mona, turning upon him eyes humid with disappointment, yet free from wrath of any kind. "As for Mr. Moore," with a curl of her short upper lip that it does him good to see, and a quick frown, "why, he is as old as the hills, and as fat as Tichborne, and he hasn't got a single hair on his head!" "Yes, many will. Lady Rodney,—and—and Jack too. He also must lose by it," says Violet, with suppressed warmth. "You terrify me," says Geoffrey, with a grimace. "You think, then, that Mona is pretty?" "Quite too late," acquiesces his mother, meaningly. "It is, to say the least of it, very strange, very unseemly. Out at this hour, and alone,—if, indeed, she is alone!".
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