’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. She is in the hall now. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. ’ ‘I like that,’ Gerald protested. Their small talk continued. Down under the incalculable selfishness of the penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas.
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