I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. Her anger parlayed with her confusion, as she realized that the new marriage was about as optional as the first one and her hunger was growing inside her like a weed. Earles remarked genially. 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.
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