Again there was a period of silence—a silence so long and gloomy that when Mombi finally lifted the kettle from the fire it was close to midnight.
"I DON'T WANT TO BE A MARBLE STATUE."
"You cannot drink it until it has become quite cold," announced the old witch—for in spite of the law she had acknowledged practising witchcraft. "We must both go to bed now, and at daybreak I will call you and at once complete your transformation into a marble statue."
With this she hobbled into her room, bearing the steaming kettle with her, and Tip heard her close and lock the door.
The boy did not go to bed, as he had been commanded to do, but still sat glaring at the embers of the dying fire.
