No, these repugnant occult formulas were his only hope, and he had gotten his usual punishment for making the mistake of looking at her. Deliberately he moved to the other side of the table, so his back was to the rocking chair.
But he was restless, his muscles itching with fatigue poisons, and for the moment, he could not get back to the work. All sorts of questions were plaguing his mind.
Suddenly Norman spoke. "Why do you suppose everything has become violent and deadly so abruptly?"
"What I believe they call the Balance was upset," was the answer. There was no interruption in the steady rocking.
"How was that?" He started to look over the back of his chair, but checked himself in time.
"It happened when I ceased to practice magic." The rocking was a grating monotony.
"But why should that lead to violence?"
"It upset the Balance."
"Yes, but how can that explain the abruptness of the shift from relatively trivial attacks to a deadly maliciousness?"