" "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. They feasted every day and ate all sorts of fresh foods grown in the expansive gardens teeming with vegetables and fruits. 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. This girl whom he had met by chance and befriended had done both.
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