"What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. CHAPTER VIII. 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. For the young, immortality must seem promising, even wonderful! The grass is always greener on the other side.
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