The entrance of Shoe Lane, and the whole line of the wall of St. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. 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. Little Anna screamed and thrashed as she was torn from Lucy’s skirts. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised.
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