The other smiles faintly. He is evidently glad because of Geoffrey's words, but speech is now very nearly impossible to him. His attempt to rise, to point out the imaginary moonlight to Mona, has greatly wasted his small remaining stock of life, and now but a thin partition, frail and broken, lies between him and that inexorable Rubicon we all must one day pass.,
"Well, he was different," says Mona, giving in ignominiously. "I couldn't care for him either; but what I said is true all the same. Other people would not like me.",
"I shall do only what you wish," returns he, chivalrously, arranging the cushion that adorns the back of her chair..
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