" 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. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling to avoid the fury of the wind. It was a moment of breathless interest to all engaged in the attempt. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. " "Impossible!" cried Jonathan. ’ ‘Eh bien, what then?’ Emile sidled closer. ” “And for me,” Anna echoed.
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