" 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. “And where are YOU going?” he said. It is a very small affair, after all, and you can pay me back if you will. And mind he doesn't stir out of your sight, on any pretence whatever, till I call. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. He had barely said, \"Anytime,\" before she shut the door rather rudely in his face.
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