" "Mr. ” “As long as you remain under my roof—” he began, and paused. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. 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. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister.
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