"It is terrible, terrible," says Mona, piteously sinking on her knees beside the bed. One of his hands is lying outside the coverlet, and, with a gesture full of tender regret, she lays her own upon it.,
Violet is growing as nearly frightened as good breeding will permit at the protracted sobbing, when Sir Nicholas speaks.,
Violet, watching her, notes the tumult in her mind, and, seeing how her will gains mastery over her desire, honors her for her self-control..
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