She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. "So much the worse," replied Jonathan, rising and taking a turn, as if uncertain what to do. She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. ‘—and I love your raven hair, and your bright blue eyes, and your very kissable lips—’ suiting the action to the words ‘—and I love the crazy way you speak English, and the way you curse at me. She cried and sobbed in fits. There must be something behind the missioner's actions, something of which the girl knew nothing nor suspected. Courtlaw sat with folded arms. .
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