Plain, wide-mouthed, freckled, and ugly, she was an instantly jealous creature, her saving grace that she took no pains to mask her extreme dislike 47 of petite, pretty girls. “So it’s like you’re a dead end?” He asked innocently. Thankfully only the children were home, so there was no one to take active notice that she had been accompanied on her way home from school. “No!” he said aloud at last. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. 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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