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"Yes; I said I was Mrs. Rodney.","She whom I wish to marry belongs to the Sun," said Scarface; "I am trying to find where he lives, so that I may ask him for her.",The naivete of this speech is not to be surpassed.,"Now let us talk no more nonsense," says Rodney, tenderly. "We belong to each other, and always shall, and that is the solution of the whole matter.","Bridget," says Mona, "will you go in and get me a cup of tea before I go to bed? I am tired.",Then she rises upon her elbow, and notices how the light comes through the chinks of the shutters. It must be day indeed. The dreary night has fled affrighted; the stars hide their diminished rays. Surely,"That doesn't matter," says Lady Rodney: "it is a mere formula. If it suited your purpose you could have said so—I don't doubt—readily enough.",The music, soft and almost mournful, echoes through the room; the feet keep time upon the oaken floor; weird-like the two forms move through the settled gloom.,"You are wrong: I am quite well," says Mona, smiling, and rousing herself.,And in truth the "claning" occupies a very short period,—or else Mona and Geoffrey heed not the parting moments. For sometimes,She is distraite and silent all the morning, taking small notice of what goes on around her. Geoffrey, perplexed too, in spirit, wanders vaguely from pillar to post, unable to settle to anything,—bound by Mona to betray no hint of what happened in the library some hours ago, yet dying to reveal the secret of the panel-cupboard to somebody.,He actually laughs, though faintly, and Mona looks up. Perhaps he has forced himself to this vague touch of merriment (that is even sadder than tears) just to please and rouse her from her despondency,—because the laugh dies almost as it is born, and an additional pallor covers his lips in its stead..