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From morn to dewy eve, nothing is discussed in bower or boudoir but flounces, frills, and furbelows,—three f's that are considered at the Towers of far more vital importance than those other three of Mr. Parnell's forming. And Mona, having proved herself quite in good taste in the matter of her own gowns, and almost an artist where coloring is concerned, is appealed to by both girls on all occasions about such things as must be had in readiness "Against their brydale day, which is not long."—As, for instance:— "I can give you the size of my waist and my shoulders, and my length," says Mona, thoughtfully, yet with a touch of inspiration. Her husband drank a swallow of the water, and when he took the horn it made a noise. "Ah," he said, as he looked about, "a person is somewhere close by.".
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"What! the horrid brute that puts back his ears and shows the white of his eyes! Geoffrey, once for all, I desire you to have nothing to do with him." In the background partly hidden by the gathering gloom, some fifteen men, and one or two women, are all huddled together, whispering eagerly, with their faces almost touching. The women, though in a great minority, are plainly having the best of it. "You have not tired yourself, dear, I hope. The day has been so oppressively warm, more like July than May. Would you like your tea now, Violet? We can have it half an hour earner if you wish." "To see poor Kitty Maloney, his widow. Last year she was my servant. This year she married; and now—here is the end of everything—for her.".
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