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"You will be near too, Geoffrey?" murmurs Mona, falteringly.,Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.","Nevertheless, you might have waived that fact, and sent down word you had a headache.","Then why did you choose that song?","Very well," says Mona, who is pale and thoughtful.,"Are you in pain?" she says, in a low, fearful tone. "Do you suffer much?",One day one of the women said to the other, "It is very lonely here; we have no one to talk with or to visit.","The day is done, and the darkness falls from the wings of night." The dusk is slowly creeping up over all the land, the twilight is coming on apace. As the day was, so is the gathering eve, sad and mournful, with sounds of rain and sobbings of swift winds as they rush through the barren beeches in the grove. The harbor bar is moaning many miles away, yet its voice is borne by rude Boreas up from the bay to the walls of the stately Towers, that neither rock nor shiver before the charges of this violent son of "imperial Æolus.","But why?" asks the duchess.,"No," he replied, "I am in a hurry; I cannot stop.",Lady Rodney, rising hurriedly, sails with offended dignity from the room.,Geoffrey starts. He walks quickly up to Mona, and, stooping over her, very gently loosens her hand from the other hand she is holding. Passing his arm round her neck, he turns her face deliberately in his own direction—as though to keep her eyes from resting on the bed and lays it upon his own breast..