Giving him a wide berth, and keeping her pistol high, she made her way to the door and warily peered through it. “I think that I know very well what I am saying,” she answered. Be on your guard. No other man should touch her; she was Hoddy's, body and soul, in this life and after. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said.
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