The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. Her husband quickly joined the fray, making her giggle and laugh. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. " 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. Listen, it is I.
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