” “I think,” Lady Lescelles said, putting down her teacup, “that I must send Nigel to plead his own cause. ” He nodded twice, with his eyes on the fire, as though that was a formal statement. He did not spend more time with her. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically.
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