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. “Perhaps you will help me shuffle?” Ann Veronica did, and also assisted nimbly with the arrangements of the rows of eight with which the struggle began. Nevertheless, she was still fighting. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet.
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