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It seems such a direct running commentary on Mona's supposed ill deed that every one—as by a single impulse—looks up. Nolly and Jack Rodney exchange covert glances. But for the depression that reigns all round, I think these two would have given way to frivolous merriment. "I suppose she is a Roman Catholic," says Sir Nicholas musingly. So thinks Mona, and goes steadily on to the library, dreading nothing, and inexpressibly cheered by the thought that gloom at least does not await her there..
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Conrad
"You are indeed," he says, in a tone so grateful that it ought to have betrayed to her his meaning. But grief and disappointment have seized upon her. It is the 14th of December, and "bitter chill." Upon all the lawns and walks at the Towers, "Nature, the vicar of the almightie Lord," has laid its white winding-sheet. In the long avenue the gaunt and barren branches of the stately elms are bowed down with the weight of the snow, that fell softly but heavily all last night, creeping upon the sleeping world with such swift and noiseless wings that it recked not of its visit till the chill beams of a wintry sun betrayed it. The young bear answered, "My father told me that I should go out and get this meat and bring it home to him." "Why, what have you to do with her?" says Ryan, addressing Rodney, a gleam of something that savors of amusement showing itself even in his ill-favored face. For an Irishman, under all circumstances, dearly loves "a courting, a bon-mot, and a broil.".
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