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"All that is morbid," says Mona: "you should try to conquer it. It is not healthy." Kneeling down by her, Dorothy lays her head upon Mona's knee, and bursts out crying afresh. "Eh?" says Lady Rodney, rousing from a day-dream. "I don't know, I'm sure; but I'll see about it; I'll make inquiries.".
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Conrad
Presently her cry is answered. A thick cloud of pigeons—brown and white and bronze and gray—come wheeling into sight from behind the old house, and tumble down upon her in a reckless fashion. They perch upon her head, her shoulders, her white soft arms, even her hands, and one, more adventurous than the rest, has even tried to find a slippery resting-place upon her bosom. "Much better do that"—gloomily—"than marry me Nothing comes of unequal marriages but worry, and despair, and misery, and death," says Mona, in a fearful tone, emphasizing each prophetic word with a dismal nod. The runnel hath "How sad Nicholas looks!" says Mona, suddenly..
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