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. . He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. She always left the table when they began to smoke.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOC4xODQuOTQgLSAyMS0wNy0yMDI0IDIzOjM2OjEyIC0gMTk4NTI3ODQxNg==
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