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. ’ ‘Why not?’ Gerald asked straightly. ‘It was a good chance for a new life,’ Joan explained, venturing to face Melusine again, ‘and Martha took it. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself. Pure romantic nonsense on her part.
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