A blizzard of butterflies enveloped the table.

This was evidently rather a difficult trick, for the spell collapsed repeatedly, and from one second to another Sarah Brown was never quite sure whether there were really Purple Admirals drowning in her soup or not.
"You are so lucky," sighed the witch, "plenty of room and every facility.

I myself am so dreadfully cramped and hampered.

I often have to boil my incantations over a spirit lamp, and even that is becoming difficult--no methylated." "Not really lucky," said Richard.

"In France the smallest pinch of magic seems to make the N.C.O.sick, and that's why I never got my stripe.