“They’re awkward things to beat up in a hurry,” said Frid.
Stephen said: “I wonder what Aunt V.‘s friends d-do about it. It must be rather dull to be witches if you can’t cast murrains on cattle or give your husband warts.”
“I wish,” Roberta cried, “that you’d tell me the truth about your Aunt V. and not go rambling on about her being a witch.”
“Poor Robin,” Henry said. “It does sound very silly, but as an actual fact, if her maid is to be believed, Aunt V. has taken up some sort of black magic. I imagine it boils down to reading histories of witchcraft and turning tables. In my opinion Aunt V. is simply dotty.”
“Well,” Frid said, “let’s go to bed, anyway.” She kissed the air near Roberta’s cheek and drifted to the door. “Come on, twins,” she added.
The twins kissed Roberta and wandered after Frid.
Henry stood in the doorway.
“Sleep well,” he said.
“Thank you, Henry,” said Roberta. “It was a lovely party.”
“For once,” said Henry, “I thought so too. Good night, Robin!”