Then Granny said: “It’s no good you trying to make me believe in Om, though.” “Om forbid that I should try, Mistress Weatherwax. I haven’t even given you a pamphlet, have I?” “No, but you’re trying to make me think ‘Oo, what a nice young man, his god must be something special if nice young men like him helps old ladies like me,’ aren’t you.” “No.” “Really? Well, it’s not working. People you can believe in, sometimes, but not gods. And I’ll tell you this, Mister Oats . . .” He sighed. “Yes?”
