" 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. The entrance of the house 85 was grand, and upon entering she was immediately greeted by John’s mother, a tall, thin woman quite a few years older than Cathy Beck. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. “I’ve thought about it. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. " It was not uttered interrogatively; rather as though Ah Cum did not like the significance of the word and was turning it over and about in speculation. Martha had grumbled at being obliged to report the matter to Mother Josephine, who had decreed that Melusine must confess to Father Saint-Simon. Does this not disturb you?” 278 “Of course it disturbs me.
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