The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. "A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. 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.
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