She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. It came to Ann Veronica that life was wonderful beyond measure. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. “I can’t believe it. Not up here, I think. "From Lady Trafford's, where I took the box.
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