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The duchess gives it up. "Yes, and a far better one, too," she says, amiably, declining to explain. Indeed, she is delighted to meet a young woman who actually regards slang as a foreign and unstudied language, and shrinks from being the first to help her to forget the English tongue. "Is there much beauty in Ireland?" she asks, presently. Seeing further talk is useless, Mona slips her hand into Rodney's and leads him down the road. "It is true; I have." Then some other train of thought seems to rush upon him; and he goes on in a curious tone that is half mocking, yet wretched above every other feeling; "You had the best of me last night, had you not? And yet," with a sardonic laugh. "I'm not so sure, either. See here.".
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"But this is very sad for you, isn't it?" she says, feeling herself in duty bound to say something. Paul turns his head, and as he sees Geoffrey a quick spasm that betrays fear crosses his face. From the cabins pale wreaths of smoke rise slowly, scarce stirred by the passing wind. Going by one of these small tenements, before which the inevitable pig is wallowing in an unsavory pool, a voice comes to him, fresh and joyous, and plainly full of pleasure, that thrills through his whole being. It is to him what no other voice ever has been, or ever can be again. It is Mona's voice! And now the horses draw up before a brilliantly-lighted hall, the doors of which are thrown wide as though in hospitable expectation of their coming..
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