“What are you doing?” He cried. She would not forgive me. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. From the point of view of most things in the world of employment which a woman can do reasonably well and earn a living by, you’re unripe and half-educated. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him.
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