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 lady grasped it more firmly and turned it upon Hilary. Conscious of Mrs. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. “NOW!” said Ann Veronica. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself.
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