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"But why?—why? Is it because you love me? Oh, Mona! If it is that! At times I have thought so, and yet again I have feared you do not love me as—as I love you." "Go," she says, again, entreatingly, still with her hand on Geoffrey's breast, as though to keep him back, but with her eyes on Paul. "If it was a political quip," says Violet, "I shouldn't care about it.".
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"Much more," says Mona; but she sighs as she says it, and a little look of hopelessness comes into her face. It is so easy to read Mona's face. "'Him'?—whom?"—demands her husband, with pardonable vivacity. With Captain Rodney and Sir Nicholas she makes way at once, though she is a little nervous and depressed, and not altogether like her usual gay insouciant self. She is thrown back upon herself, and, like a timid snail, recoils sadly into her shell. "Take me down," says Mona, wearily, turning to her lover, as the last faint ring of the horse's feet dies out on the breeze..
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