In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. “It is just a look. 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. Gerald would not marry her even with a dowry. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards.
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