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. Opposite, his pupil stood with bowed head and clasped hands. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over.
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