‘I’m not going to arrest you, young Jack—yet. So you took my womb away, you took my baby! So I could be a monster! Because she was a monster! We are monsters!” He grabbed the top of the cannon away from her face. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. The truth was impossible, indecent. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging.
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