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Mona pours out the tea—which is excellent—and puts in the cream—which is a thing to dream of—with a liberal hand. She smiles at Geoffrey across the sugar-bowl, and chatters to him over the big bowl of flowers that lies in the centre of the table. Not a hothouse bouquet faultlessly arranged, by any means, but a great, tender, happy, straggling bunch of flowers that seem to have fallen into their places of their own accord, regardless of coloring, and fill the room with their perfume.,"You are wrong," says Mona, coldly. "They seldom trouble themselves to speak of you at all." This is crueller than she knows.,This brings the skirmish to an end. Carthy, seeing all is lost, caves in, and, regardless of the prostrate figure of his companion, jumps hurriedly over the low wall, and disappears in the night-mist that is rolling up from the bay.,"If that be so, she'll make you keep from splittin' on us," says the man. "So now go; we've work in hand to-night not fit for her eyes.",This eulogy on the departing Larry she delivers with much unction, and a good deal of check apron in the corner of one eye.,But that she masked it in modestie,,He hardly realizes the extent of his subjection,—is blind to the extreme awkwardness of the situation. Of Geoffrey's absence, and the chance that he may return at any moment, he is altogether ignorant.,"Do you mean that you would really miss me if I left you for only one day?" he asks, delightedly. "Mona, tell me the truth.","It was unfortunate Mona should have met them at the hall door,—Edith Carson told me about it,—but it could not be helped," says Violet calmly.,"No; I am quite warm," says Mona, in a low, sad tone.,"Well, mother?" says Geoffrey, when he has gained her room and received her kiss, which is not exactly all it ought to be after a five months' separation. He is her son, and of course she loves him, but—as she tells herself—there are some things hard to forgive.,"I thought so all along," says Geoffrey, gravely..