He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude. 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. The touch of her hands was pleasurable. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips.
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