Mr. ” Ann Veronica had remained standing while her aunt spoke. Montressor’s guests were. A pig, yes, a little. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. It was you who were so much amazed that I did not try—the music hall stage here. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground.
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