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She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. The police are concerned in it in either event.
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