Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. F. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. Stunning and continuous, the din seemed almost to take away the power of hearing.
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