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He does not see Mona until he is within a yard of her, a thick bush standing between him and her. Being always a creature of impulse, she has stood still on seeing him, and is lost in wonder as to who he can be. One hand is lifting up her gown, the other is holding together the large soft white fleecy shawl that covers her shoulders, and is therefore necessarily laid upon her breast. Her attitude is as picturesque as it is adorable.,"I doubt your queen lacks dignity," she says, with a quick blush, when she has achieved her tender crime.,"No?" says Lauderdale, laughing. "But why, then? There is no other Mrs. Rodney, is there?",Mona hardly hears him. She is thinking of Nicholas's face as it was half an hour ago when he had leaned against the deserted doorway and looked at pretty Dorothy.,"Put it on you," says Geoffrey.,"Now tell me something else," she says, after a little bit. "Do all the women you know dress a great deal?","Some of his ideas are lovely. You would like his poetry, I think.","If—if you loved a fellow, would anything turn you against him?" asks he, suddenly, looking her full in the face.,"Do not trouble yourself to make any further excuse," says Mona, icily.,"What a wretched evening!" says Violet, with a little shiver. "Geoffrey, draw the curtains closer.",All this she breathes forth in disjointed sentences as she rushes, like a light-footed deer, across the ploughed land into the wet grass beyond.,"You do not understand them," returns she, sadly. "And I do. Besides, they will not harm me. There is no fear of that. I am not at all afraid of them. And—I must speak to them.".