Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. "The key's on the outside— quick! quick!" Instantly alive to this chance, Blueskin broke away. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. Sheppard," replied Jonathan, mysteriously. "No," replied Jack, peremptorily. "I cannot remain here long. “Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. It wasn’t pretty. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins.
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