" It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. “I lied, as I would have committed a murder, or done any evil deed sooner than lose you. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. “Lift up one corner of the curtain for me.
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