" 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. . She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. It'll be in your way. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. One of her duties, after she had been taught to read, had been to read aloud after breakfast and before going to bed. She could not stir hand or foot.
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