My wife smirks. “Well, there’s a woman here without shoes who is nursing an infant. I presume she’s yer lost witch.”
I look inside the stall. Lo and behold, Sarah Good is there. She detaches her infant from her breast and nestles it in her lap.
“Goody Good, these men told me ye escaped. If so, how came ye to be here?” I ask her.
Sarah chews on her empty pipe. “The men snored, so I let myself out. But I had nowhere to go, so I came back. Can I have tabak for my pipe?”
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