‘I wish you could, too,’ he answered affably; ‘you would feel so comfortable and important. But you won’t, although it is much more probable than you might suppose.’
Laura stretched herself out on the turf and pillowed her head on her arm.
‘Nothing could feel more comfortable than I do, now that Titus is gone,’ she said. ‘And as for importance, I never wish to feel important again. I had enough of that when I was an aunt.’
‘Well, you’re a witch now.’
‘Yes.... I really am, aren’t I?’
‘Irrevocably.’
His voice was so perfectly grave that she began to suspect him of concealing some amusement. When but a moment before he had jested she had thought a deeper meaning lay beneath his words, she almost believed that his voice had roared over her in the thunder. If he had spoken without feigning then, she had not heard him; for he had stopped her ears with a sleep.
‘Why do you sigh?’ he asked.
‘Did I sigh? I’m puzzled, that’s all. You see, although I’m a witch, and although you sitting here beside me tell me so, I can’t really appreciate it, take it in. It all seems perfectly natural.’
‘That is because you are in my power. No servant of mine can feel remorse, or doubt, or surprise. You may be quite easy, Laura: you will never escape me, for you can never wish to.’