But it wasn’t the animal causing this, he knew; it was thoughts of holding Mary this way, of fondling her smooth flesh. He leaned his head down and...kissed the cat. It licked its raspy tongue over his lips. “That bastard Abernathy,” he said. “I hope he catches some disease. I hope he dies.” * Two days later, Edward showed up at the small Salem Town jailhouse at two in the afternoon. He was only allowed one visit per week and the intervals between them felt like months. Mary had no one else. .. one that, in other contexts, usually numbed her with self-loathing. Since her final encounter with Wormtongue and his memory-altering powder, he’d become a pathetic, wheedling nonentity in the eyes of most of the Rohirrim. He retained full control of the King — which was, to her mind, proof that what bewitched King Théoden was sustained by something beyond Wormtongue’s usual tricks of voice — but slowly lost his grip on most everyone else. And then came his groveling capitulation to the. More

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