Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. " 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. Threw it out. ’ Mademoiselle, who had been nodding in agreement at Roding during the first part of this speech, abruptly turned to face Gerald again.
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