/* body.sgc-10 {text-justify-trim:punctuation} p.sgc-9 {font-style: italic} p.sgc-8 {margin-top:6.0pt;margin-right:36.0pt;margin-bottom: 6.0pt;margin-left:36.0pt;text-indent:0cm} span.sgc-7 {font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; text-transform:uppercase} span.sgc-6 {font-variant:normal !important;text-transform:uppercase} span.sgc-5 {font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"} br.sgc-4 {page-break-before:always} p.sgc-3 {font-weight: bold; text-align: center} p.sgc-2 {text-align: center} span.sgc-1 {text-transform:uppercase} /*]]>*/ Chapter Eight Old Mother Malkin Back at the Spook’s cottage, I began to worry, but the more I thought about it, the less clear I was in my own mind. I knew what the Spook would say. He’d throw the cakes away and give me a long lesson on witches and problems with girls wearing pointy shoes. He wasn’t here so that didn’t enter into it. There were two things that made me go into the darkness of the eastern garden, where he kept the witches.
