I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. 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. The hills surrounded her cave home protectively. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. ’ She moved quickly to the nearest bookcase, and listened intently to the sound of Jack’s voice.
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