" "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. What does it matter? It is here, and it is here to stay. She recalled that day of the typhoon and the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. Celeste he knew.
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