But it was extraordinary what seemingly irrelevant things could restore her to the thought of Capes again. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. 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. Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations. ” “It’s all the same,” said Miss Miniver. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed.
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