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"Yes, you do," says Mona, with a little obstinate shake of her head. "You call us dirty, for one thing.","Dear me! what a terribly unpleasant young man!" thinks Mona, at her wits' end to know what to say next. Tapping her fingers in a perplexed fashion on the table nearest her, she wonders when he will cease his exhaustive survey of the walls and give her an opportunity of leaving the room.,"Oh not for ever so long," returns she, with much and heartless unconcern. (His spirits sink to zero.) "Certainly not until Friday," she goes on, carelessly. (As this is Wednesday, his spirits once more rise into the seventh heaven.) "Or Saturday, or Sunday, or perhaps some day next week," she says, unkindly.,"There was Violet," says Lady Rodney.,"Go home now to your wife and your child, and when you are hungry hunt like any one else. If you do not, you shall die.",It is a fern for which Mona has long been wishing. Oh! happy thought! She has expressed for it the keenest admiration. Oh! blissful remembrance! She has not one like it in all her collection. Oh! certainty full of rapture.,"It is like a fairy-tale," says Violet, with unwonted excitement. "Oh, Mona, tell us how you managed it.",In a doorway, somewhat out of the crush, Sir Nicholas is standing. His eyes are fixed on Dorothy, who is laughing with a gay and gallant plunger in the distance. He is looking depressed and melancholy; a shadow seems to have fallen into his dark eyes.,"You, Ryan?" says Mona, with an attempt at unconcern, but her tone is absolutely frozen with fear.,"I think the days are lengthening," says Violet, quietly, defending Mona unconsciously, and almost without knowing why. Yet in her heart—against her will as it were—she is making room for this Irish girl, who, with her great appealing eyes and tender ways, is not to be resisted.,And so matters stood when Mona came to the Towers.,"Is it very late?" says Mona, awaking from her happy dreams with a start..