" 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. “Hold on, she’s right here. He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. Men usually do. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin.
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