"A newt!" Silk wails to her father. "Heaven help us!" She shudders, imagining herself waking up in the morning, smothered in her French underthings and gown in the form of a ---a ferret. Oh god have mercy on them!
Then upon hearing the accusation leveled against her, she protests. "Wearing scanty underwear does not make me a witch... although I am sure that some of you would say it would make me something else," she blushes sheepishly. "But it does not make me a witch! I hear that witches like to masquerade as good folk, to practice their dark arts in the safety of their disguise... and who could be more good than our Goody Ladysky? She is too good! A bastion of perfection in our city! What black artifices lie under that goodness while we look away, unsuspecting, and our fellow villagers are transformed into heaven knows what?"