The only difficulties that presented themselves clearly to her were the difficulties of getting away from Morningside Park, and not the difficulties at the other end of the journey. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. I said I’d do anything. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. ‘You said she was beautiful. He carried a small bag. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece.
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