" 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. They bounced without merriment over bumpy Roman roads, and by the time they arrived she was extremely nauseous. "Thames, I entreat—" "Your wishes are my laws, beloved, girl," replied Kneebone, bowing profoundly. He waved a hand toward the sea. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room.
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