Prudence shook her head. 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. He was evidently nervous, and very anxious to be impressive; his projecting eyes sought to dominate. “How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don Quixote like this. Two children, who had been caught in the jam-closet: ingratiating smiles, back of which lay doubt and fear. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators.
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