Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. ‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat. " "O Heavens!" screamed Winifred, while her father lifted up his hands in silent horror. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. "Your sympathy is being wasted. “Women are mocked,” she said. He drew her away from this thought.
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