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"Well, then, I think it is only just you should be unhappy," says Mona, with some vehemence. "Those who seek to scatter misery broadcast among their fellows should learn to taste of it themselves.",She moves from him.,"Yet she would renounce her love, would betray him for the sake of filthy lucre," says Mona, gravely. "I cannot understand that.",To some of these people that he had freed he said, "Where are there any other people? I want to visit all the people.",We must go back one hour. Lady Lilias Eaton has come and gone. It is now a quarter to five, and Violet is pouring out tea in the library.,A loose stone that has fallen from its home in the mountain-side above uprears itself in the middle of this turbulent stream. But it is too far from the edge, and Mona, standing irresolutely on the brink, pauses, as though half afraid to take the step that must either land her safely on the other side or else precipitate her into the angry little river.,"But I have to do with him," says Mona, distinctly.,"Kitty, can I do anything for you?" asks Mona, in a gentle whisper, bending over her and taking the hand that lies in her lap between both her own, with a pressure full of gentle sympathy. "I know there is nothing I can say but can I do nothing to comfort you?","Very self-denying of him, indeed," says Geoffrey, with a slight sneer, and a sigh of relief.,Mona is enchanted with the many varieties she sees that are unknown to her, and, being very much not of the world, is not ashamed to express her delight. Looking carefully through all, she yet notices that a tiny one, dear to her, because common to her sweet Killarney, is not among his collection.,"It doesn't matter in the least what any one thinks on this subject," says Nicholas, with a slight frown, "I shall esteem it a very great honor if you will call me by my Christian name. And besides, Mona, I want you to try to care for me,—to love me, as I am your brother.","Eh, but this is bad news!" says old Scully, evidently terrified and disheartened by his niece's words. "Where will it all end? Come in, Misther Rodney: let me look at ye, boy. No, not a word out of ye now till ye taste something. 'Tis in bits ye are; an' a good coat it was this mornin'. There's the whiskey, Mona, agra, an' there's the wather. Oh! the black villain! Let me examine ye, me son. Why, there's blood on ye! Oh! the murthering thief!".