82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. She waited expectantly. “How are those books any different from the witchcraft books?” “I dunno. So I dare say I was christened Jack. ” She found her muscles a-tremble. ‘But what in the world was she doing at Remenham House?’ ‘Your quickness is astounding, Lucy,’ Gerald told her admiringly. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. ” He seemed to be elaborating ideas as he talked. .
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