" 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. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. “You had no right—” panted Ann Veronica. ” Michelle fired back merrily. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact.
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