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"It won't trouble us, not a bit," says Mrs. Geoffrey, rising with alacrity. "I shall love it, the floor is so nice and slippery. Can any one whistle?" She stands well back from Geoffrey, and then, without any of the foolish, unlovely bashfulness that degenerates so often into awkwardness in the young, begins her dance. "Or like the 'sweet little cherub that sits up aloft.' There is something cherubic about you, do you know Nolly, when one comes to think of it. But finish your tale.".
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Conrad
"Then that villain, that scoundrel, has it now in his possession," he says, quickly. "If I go after him, even yet I may come up with him before he reaches his home, and compel him to give it up." "Is that all?" says Mona, with quick contempt, seeing him pause. "Why, there is nothing in that! I pinned a flower into your coat only yesterday." "No," says Mona, shaking her head. "Not—not to-night. I shall soon." When the old man has gone, Mona goes quietly up to her lover, and, laying her hand upon his arm,—a hand that seems by some miraculous means to have grown whiter of late,—says, gratefully,—.
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