" 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. In the upper hall he paused to listen. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. I suppose most of our daughters would marry organ-grinders if they had a chance—at that age. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. ” Resigned, she rosined the bow and tightened the loose strings.
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