She sat, crouched together, by the corner of the hearthrug under the bookcase that supported the pig’s skull, and looked into the fire and up at Ann Veronica’s face, and let herself go. He told her something about music, the great world outside. “Never mind. "My mother is avenged. If I had been your companion only, and not your master, I might very well have been content to accept you for what you seem.
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