97 “For what, kiddo?” Larry turned his head slightly to one side. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman. Stanley admired and detested him in almost equal measure. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. 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. Love, obliterated, annihilated; out of his heart and out of his Bible.
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