He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. "Were it not for that, he would indeed be a blessing and a comfort to me. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. “I am happy. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection.
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