There is a pause. In shrinking doubt she awaits the moment that shall make him take advantage of her words. But that moment never comes. In vain she waits. At length she lifts her eyes, and he, flinging the parchment at her feet, cries, roughly,—,
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.,
"Yes. I thank you for your goodness," returns he, slowly..
This app may share these data types with third
parties
Device or other IDs
This app may collect these data types
Location, Personal info and
9 others
Data is encrypted in transit
You can request that data be deleted