Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. ‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. John said nothing. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. Sebastian's arms were about her, his fists pumping her stomach as she coughed forth saltwater from her belly and lungs.
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