What she actually wanted was the present state of affairs to continue indefinitely. "I think you're all bewitched," she cried. "You heard me say it! It was inevitable. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. Missy is into the witchcraft stuff, Wicca, nothing bad or anything. It has been proved. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest.
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