\"Well, to tell you the truth, John Diedermayer. Leave me my blanket! I'm very cold at night. Twenty-one, twenty-two. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically.
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