“This is all madness,” she declared wearily. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. She was shocked. 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.
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