. 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. But no more of that. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. . Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. “You shall drive home with me in a hansom, if you will. I tried painting and couldn’t get on.
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