It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. “How are those books any different from the witchcraft books?” “I dunno. Of course there were goats. Where is Father Spencer? I must have absolution. That’s my opinion, if you ask me. “I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. But before he could say anything, the vehicle rolled to a halt.
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