Tituba, the minister's slave, gazed into the stone watering trough. She did not see her own reflection. Instead, she saw a vision of herself, surrounded by angry people. The people were staring at her. Their faces showed fear. That was several years ago. It is now 1692, and there...
Tituba, the minister's slave, gazed into the stone watering trough. She did not see her own reflection. Instead, she saw a vision of herself, surrounded by angry people. The people were staring at her. Their faces showed fear. That was several years ago. It is now 1692, and there...
Tituba, the minister's slave, gazed into the stone watering trough. She did not see her own reflection. Instead, she saw a vision of herself, surrounded by angry people. The people were staring at her. Their faces showed fear. That was several years ago. It is now 1692, and there...