" 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. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. The stairs creaked as Mark rushed down them. "Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an authoritative tone.
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