Forced to choose between eating and lodging, she went hungry. She lay awake at night, weak from hunger, worn from worry, trying to ignore her fleabite... and the constant rattling cough of a nearby child. The cellar air was sickly; every breath Rose took was already inhaled and exhaled by a score of other people. With only a few cents remaining, the letter from Kathleen finally came. Rose, Come tomorrow morn to the back entrance. I’ve had a word with the butler, Mr. Burton. Don’t let his gruff. And apparently theneighbor girl's grandmother---who Janey had talked to a few times, andwho had seemed a bit peculiar but sane enough---had believed in thisstuff in a big way, so maybe it was real to some extent...Jane had found a number of magic spells that seemed like they'd be ableto make Bobby fall in love with her. There were recipes for lovepotions, nine of them, but the old self-described witch had written alittle paragraph before them that somehow seemed to be speaking directlyto her:I. More

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