A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. ” He threw the stone protecting the crypt to one side. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall.
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