"To my forehead?" says Mona, puzzled; and then she glances at Geoffrey, remembering that this was one of the slight variations with which he adorned his tale.,
She smiles again, and, with a sigh of rapture at her own success, turns to Geoffrey and presses her lips to his out of the very fulness of her heart.,
"No,"—slowly,—"I do not. If I did, I should not love you as—as I do.".
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