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Melbet.com offers a variety of sports betting options, from soccer to horse racing, to satisfy every player's betting preferences.⭐️ CHAPTER XXVI.,"I was thinking about this impending lawsuit," he stammers, uneasily. "You know of it, of course? Yet why should I be blamed?","I am staying at a shooting-lodge called Coolnagurtheen. Do you know where that is.","Yes, of course," she says, dejectedly. A cloud seems to have fallen upon her happy hour. "When did you hear that—that last singer?" she asks, in a subdued voice.,She pauses, catching her breath with a little sob.，"Dear me," she says, throwing up her dainty head, and flinging, with a petulant gesture, the unoffending grass far from her, "what an escape I have had! How his mother would have hated me! Surely I should count it lucky that I discovered all about her in time. Because really it doesn't so very much matter; I dare say I shall manage to be quite perfectly happy here again, after a little bit, just as I have been all my life—before he came. And when he is gone"—she pauses, chokes back with stern determination a very heavy sigh, and then goes on hastily and with suspicious bitterness, "What a temper he has! Horrid! The way he flung away my hand, as if he detested me, and flounced down that hill, as if he hoped never to set eyes on me again! With no 'good-by,' or 'by your leave,' or 'with your leave,' or a word of farewell, or a backward glance, or anything! I do hope he has taken me at my word, and that he will go straight back, without seeing me again, to his own odious country."，The momentous Friday comes at last, and about noon Mona and Geoffrey start for the Towers. They are not, perhaps, in the exuberant spirits that should be theirs, considering they are going to spend their Christmas in the bosom of their family,—at all events, of Geoffrey's family which naturally for the future she must acknowledge as hers. They are indeed not only silent, but desponding, and as they get out of the train at Greatham and enter the carriage sent by Sir Nicholas to meet them their hearts sink nearly into their boots, and for several minutes no words pass between them.，When he awoke the sun was in the middle of the sky. His leg and arm were swollen and pained him, yet he started to go home, and for a time struggled onward; but at last, tired and discouraged, he sat down.Scarce more than silence is, and yet a sound.

"But I have to do with him," says Mona, distinctly.,For Geoffrey the prelude has been played, and now at last he knows it. Up and down the little hall he paces, his hands behind his back, as his wont when deep in day-dreams, and asks himself many a question hitherto unthought of. Can he—shall he—go farther in this matter? Then this thought presses to the front beyond all others:—"Does she—will she—ever love me?","Show it to me to-day," says he, with interest.,"They certainly must be a lively lot, if all one hears is true," says Geoffrey, with a suppressed yawn.,Then he tells her all the truth about his interview with his mother, only suppressing such words as would be detrimental to the cause he has in hand, and might give her pain.,"It is a very late hour for any one to be on the public road," says Lady Rodney, unpleasantly, quite forgetting that people, as a rule, do not go abroad in pale-blue satin gowns, and that therefore some time must have elapsed between Mona's return from her walk and the donning of her present attire. And so she overreaches herself, as clever people will do, at times.,"Yes. I thank you for your goodness," returns he, slowly.,"I have heard too much already. I won't listen to any more. 'Lady Rodney!' I dare say"—with awful meaning in her tone—"you have got a title too!" Then, sternly, "Have you?","Well, he was different," says Mona, giving in ignominiously. "I couldn't care for him either; but what I said is true all the same. Other people would not like me.",He is a little disappointed by the calmness of her answer.,CHAPTER XXXI.For a second Mona's courage fails her, and then it returns with threefold force. In truth, she is nearer death at this moment than she herself quite knows.,Mona, sinking languidly into a chair, turns the note over and over between her fingers, whilst wondering in a disjointed fashion as to whom it can be from. She guesses vaguely at the writer of it, as people will when they know a touch of the hand and a single glance can solve the mystery..