She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. " 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. “I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg. This getting up at dawn—real dawn—and working until seven was a distinct novelty.
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