Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. She had seen for herself right up in the bedroom window with her binoculars when Joanie was gone shopping one night, right with her own eyes. It was bad luck to go to Canongate. ’ ‘Believe me, she wouldn’t have cared.
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