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"Well, really, you know, yes. I think there is something special about her," he says, feeling himself in duty bound to say something. "I want you to see my own work," she says, going up markedly to Mona. "I am glad my garden has pleased you. I could see by your eyes how well you appreciated it. To see the beautiful in everything, that is the only true religion." She smiles her careful absent smile again as she says this, and gazes earnestly at Mona. Perhaps, being true to her religion, she is noting "the beautiful" in her Irish guest. "No, I haven't," says Mona, indignantly..
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Conrad
Mickey, as he grows desperate, grows bolder. He rises to speech. It revives him somewhat. And presently the intenser pallor dies away, and speech returns to him. "Yes; let me go to him," says Mona, quickly; "I shall know what to say better than you." "Ever heard of Botany Bay?" asks he, idly; but, this question being distinctly frivolous, she takes no notice of it. "Well, it's in Ireland," he goes on, after a slight but dignified pause. "You have heard of the Emerald Isle, I suppose? It's the country where they grow potatoes, and say 'bedad'; and Bantry is somewhere south, I think. I'm never very sure about anything: that's one of my charms.".
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