“What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. A hollow feeling opened up inside her, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. He worried me to marry him. "I'm not worth it. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated.
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