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 would rather put up with your own efforts, however clumsy. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles. She says to be home by one AM. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica.
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