She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Shari entered the room in a damp towel, fresh from the shower. " "In whose favour is it made?" he inquired, sternly. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. Softly she rose to her feet.
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