There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. 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. Her spirit awoke in dismay to an affection in ruins, to the immense undignified disaster that had come to them. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient.
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