" 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. A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the broad staircase. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. He embraced her fully. Alban's to-night. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. Too late.
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