Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. All of us were fussy, colicky babies from what she tells me. Even if you didn’t know it.
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