“My dear Annabel,” she said, “this is delightful, but I thought that it was forbidden. " 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. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. G'night, kids. .
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