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"Yes, you, and every other man," says Mona, smiling, and raising her loving eyes to her husband. It was in the boudoir they were sitting, and Violet was dressed in some soft gray dress that shone and turned into palest pearl as she moved. It was his mother's boudoir, the room she most affects, with its crimson and gray coloring and its artistic arrangements, that blend so harmoniously, and are so tremendously becoming to the complexion when the blinds are lowered. How pretty Mona would look in a gray and crimson room? how—— "But I wish it had been any one but Mona," says Geoffrey, still agitated..
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Conrad
Mona turns pale. "No," answered the man, "I am afraid. Who could look at such dreadful things and live?" "Yes, quite so: that is exactly what I meant," returns he, agreeably. It was not what he meant; but that doesn't count. "How awfully clever you are," he says, presently, alluding to her management of the little pats, which, to say truth, are faring but ill at her hands. "Oh, no, don't," says Mona, earnestly. Then she stops short, and blushes a faint sweet crimson..
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