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"Oh, nothing," says Mona, flushing. "I suppose I was lonely. Don't mind me. Tell me all about yourself and your visit.","When am I to see you again?" says Rodney, anxiously.,"Oh! at home, you know," says Mr. Rodney, quickly, discovering his mistake. For the moment he had forgotten his former declaration of poverty, or, at least, his consenting silence, when she had asked him about it.,"You are an artiste," says Geoffrey, with a deep sigh when she has finished. "Who taught you, child? But there is no use in such a question. Nobody could teach it to you: you must feel it as you sing. And yet you are scarcely to be envied. Your singing has betrayed to me one thing: if ever you suffer any great trouble it will kill you.","I know that. If I was not utterly sure of it I should instantly commit suicide by precipitating myself under the carriage-wheels," says Geoffrey. "Still—'let us dissemble.' Now say what I told you.",He moves towards the door with "pride in his port, defiance in his eye," as Goldsmith would say.,But Mickey is not to be outdone. "An' there's the pigs, miss," he begins again, presently.,"Now, sir speak," she says, at length in rather tremulous tones growing fearful of the lengthened silence. There is a dangerous vibration in the arm that Geoffrey has round her, that gives her warning to make some change in the scene as soon as possible.,Her face is hidden; it is lying on her arms, and they are cast, in the utter recklessness and abandonment of her grief, across the feet of him who, only yesterday, had been her "man,"—her pride and her delight.,"They've done it at last," says Mr. Darling, in a low, compressed voice. "It is an accomplished fact. I heard 'em myself!","There is a limit to everything,—even my patience," he says, not looking at his mother. "Mona is myself, and even from you, my mother, whom I love and reverence, I will not take a disparaging word of her.","I dare say," says Mr. Rodney, with rising ire..