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"What a wretched evening!" says Violet, with a little shiver. "Geoffrey, draw the curtains closer.","I wonder when you will adore any one, Nolly," says Geoffrey, idly.,"Morning fair,"I really wish," she says, presently, "you would do what I say. Go to the farm, and—stay there.","In the National Gallery, do you mean?" asks Mona, with a pretty, puzzled frown on her brow. "Oh, no, Geoffrey; I shouldn't like that at all. To be stared at by everybody,—it wouldn't be nice, would it?","You may compel him to murder you," she says, feverishly, "or, in your present mood, you may murder him. No, you shall not stir from this to-night.","What a strange name yours is!—Nolly," says Mona, presently.,"And an unhallowed grave, too. And so you really felt miserable when angry with me? How do you feel now?" She is looking up at him, with love and content and an adorable touch of coquetry in her pretty face.,The duke loses his head a little.,"By the by," he says, once more restored to something like hope, as he notes her drooping lids and changing color and how she hides from his searching gaze her dark, blue, Irish eyes, that, as somebody has so cleverly expressed it, seem "rubbed into her head with a dirty finger," so marked lie the shadows beneath them, that enhance and heighten their beauty,—"by the by, you told me you had a miniature of your mother in your desk, and you promised to show it to me." He merely says this with a view to gaining more time, and not from any overwhelming desire to see the late Mrs. Scully.,"Oh!" cried Scarface; "at first your words were good. I was glad. But now it is dark. My heart is dead. Where is that far-off lodge? Where is the trail that no one yet has travelled?","Is—is Violet Mansergh a pretty girl?" asks Mona, grasping instinctively at the fact that any one called Violet Mansergh may be a possible rival..