1. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most. “Oh, Lucy. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. “You would believe that life is kindled by the passions alone. I do wish you could come and dine with us some evening. From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh; and, looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance of Jack Sheppard immediately before him.
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