‘Good. 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. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. "I wish merely to come out of this bargain honourably. 'But I don't desire to spoil sport,—not I.
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