" 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. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. . \"Has that John asked you for a date?\" Cathy added. Then he entered her passionately, riding her with exquisite precision. "As I could wish!" cried Jonathan.
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