‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. 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. " "Nonsense!" "Something's wrong. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. Pardon what I have said, Madam. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression.
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