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Her face changes. He has made no mention of the treasured gown, has said no little word of praise. There is no vehement applause as Mona takes her fingers from the keys, but every one says, "Thank you," in a low tone. Geoffrey, going up to her, leans over her chair and whispers, with some agitation,— "Well," asked the old woman, "for whom are you mourning?".
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Conrad
"That is just like me," says Mr. Rodney, unblushingly—"the very image of me." "I need no queen when I have got a king," says the girl, with ready wit and great tenderness. "What is amusing you?" asks he, a trifle stiffly.—To give way to recitation, and then find your listener in agonies of suppressed mirth, isn't exactly a situation one would hanker after. "Tell me why you hesitated in your speech a while ago. Talking of Rodney's giving you the will, you said he offered to give it you if—if——What did the 'if' mean?".
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