The old man held the kerchief close to his face, and he recoiled as his nose scrunched in revulsion, "And what is this perfume? It's a different kind of scent I never smelled before."
Mr. Bernards' face turned a bright tinge of red as he realized the consequences of his son seeing a woman of poor upbringing.
Katarina smiled wickedly and she whispered into his ears, "I hear that the woman frequents the forest near her home."
"Oh?" the old man was listening.
"They say witches had come to town, Mr. Bernards." Katarina whispered.
"Witches?" the old man scoffed. "Those aren't real. Are they?" his voice wavered on the last word, and his eyes looked around the dim room that had little light from the lamps and the fireplace.
