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There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. ” Ann Veronica said nothing in answer to that. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. When the carpenter concluded his recital, Jonathan was for a moment lost in reflection. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake.
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