Liir held Chistery in his lap and sobbed onto his scalp. Chistery said, “Well, we’ll wail while woe’ll wheel,” and he cried along with Liir. “Aren’t they the sweet pair,” observed Nanny. “Wouldn’t that make the sweetest painting?” Under cover of darkness the Witch slipped away on her broom, and saw to it that the suffering soldier died at once.
