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"No. Of course I remember you now," says Mona, taking all this nonsense as quite bona fide sense in a maddeningly fascinating fashion. "How unkind I have been! But I was listening to the music, not to our introduction, when Sir Nicholas brought you up to me, and—and that is my only excuse." Then, sweetly, "You love music?",Passing his arm round her, he draws her closer to him.,"'I feel that I am happier than I know,'" quotes he, softly, folding her closely to his heart.,Indeed, no sound disturbs the sacred silence save the crisp rustle of the dead leaves, as they are trodden into the ground.,"You misunderstand me," says Mona, with tears in her eyes.,"Bonuvs," says Mona, mildly, going back naturally to the Irish term for those interesting babies.,"Getting what?" asks the duchess, somewhat taken aback.,"How could you be so absurd about that old Moore?" she says, lightly. "Why he has got nothing to recommend him except his money; and what good," with a sigh, "does that do him, unless to get him murdered!","That's me," says Mona, glancing at him archly from under her long lashes.,"From every blush that kindles in her cheeks,,And so they are married, and last words are spoken, and adieux said, and sad tears fall, and for many days her own land knows Mona no more.,As he makes this last extraordinary remark he looks over his left shoulder, as though fearful of being overheard..