If Martha knew all, she would certainly die of shock. She leaped suddenly at a desperate resolution, and in one moment had made it into a new self. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. 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. The doctor and another man were by his bedside when they entered the room, and there were writing materials which had evidently been used close at hand. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. Winter came at the manor.
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