He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. I couldn’t help the thought. Again silence. I had no curiosity of that kind. " "What should I tempt you to?" asked Blueskin, in surprise. 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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