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. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. "I don't exactly know the rights of that affair," rejoined Griffin, with some curiosity. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps.
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