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He told the old women to move over to the bear-painted lodge and after this to live in it. It was theirs. 'Meanwhile, apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's embrasure "Shall I write to her?" asks Mona, gently. "Say what you wish done.".
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Conrad
The minutes go by slowly, slowly; a clock from some distant steeple chimes the hour. The soft pattering of rain upon the walk outside, and now upon the window-pane, is all the sound that can be heard. "Who?" "What?" say Mona and Dorothy, in one breath. But before they reach the hall door Geoffrey feels it his duty to bestow upon them a word or two of warning. "You don't know what you are talking about," says Doatie, vehemently. "Every one of those interminable half-hours will be a year off your life. Mr. Boer is obnoxious, but Florence is simply insupportable. Wait till she begins about the choir, and those hateful school-children, and the parish subsidies; then you perhaps will learn wisdom, and grow headaches if you have them not. Violet, what is it Jack calls Mr. Boer?".
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