“Thee is thinking of Ian Murray again,” her brother observed, not looking up from his paper. He sounded resigned. “I thought thee abjured witchcraft,” she said tartly. “Or does thee not include mind reading among the arts of divination?” “I notice thee does not deny it.” He looked up then, pushing his spectacles up his nose with a finger, the better to look through them at her. “No, I don’t deny it,” she said, lifting her chin at him. “How did thee know, then?” “Thee looked at the dog and sighed in a manner betokening an emotion not usually shared between a woman and a dog.”
