Instead of which they walked sharply. “Where is she?” He would yell even louder until she was sure that people in faraway fishing boats could probably hear him. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Her pa was only the smithy.
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