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"Yes, do, Nolly," says Violet.,"I fell a victim to your charms? No. Jack has it all to himself as far as I'm concerned. Well, I must be off, you know. It is a tremendous drive, and I'll barely do it in time. I shall be back about two in the morning.",Mona takes no notice of his words, but still stands by the table, with her hands folded, her long white robes clinging to her, her eyes lowered, her whole demeanor like that of some mediæval saint. So thinks Rodney, who is gazing at her as though he would forever imprint upon his brain the remembrance of a vision as pure as it is perfect.,And very honestly, too, because at the time of their visits, when Lady Rodney was entertaining them in the big drawing-room and uttering platitudes and pretty lies by the score, she was deep in the recesses of the bare brown wood, roaming hither and thither in search of such few flowers as braved the wintry blasts.,"Oh, Nolly, what?" says Mona; "do tell us." She fixes her eyes on his.,Other wise words she spoke to him, telling him what he should do; also she gave him a bundle of mysterious things which would help him on his journey.,"Out? Oh, ever so much," says Mrs. Geoffrey.,But a hand-to-hand encounter is not Mr. Carthy's forte. He prefers being propped up by friends and acquaintances, and thinks a duel a la mort a poor speculation. Now, seeing his whilom accomplice stretched apparently lifeless upon the ground, his courage (what he has of it), like Bob Acres', oozes out through his palms, and a curious shaking, that surely can't be fear, takes possession of his knees.,Here she gets completely out of her depths, and stops to consider from whence this train of thought sprung. The pig is forgotten,—indeed, to get from pigs to diamonds and back again is not an easy matter,—and has to be searched for again amidst the dim recesses of her brain, and if possible brought to the surface.,He is plainly surprised. He is indeed glad. His face changes, as if by magic, from sullen gloom to pleasurable anticipation.,Mona, drawing a chair to the panelled wall, steps up on it, and, pressing her finger on the seventh panel, it slowly rolls back, betraying the vacuum behind.,For some time they talk together, and then the duchess, fearing lest she may be keeping Mrs. Geoffrey from the common amusement of a ballroom, says, gently,—.