Forgive me?” She pleaded. 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. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. " (An order which was promptly obeyed. But Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation. Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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