It detached itself from the common trammels of the body, yes, my spirit, in shining armour, fought with the false, cruel spirits of murderers." "I hadn't got any shining armour," sighed the witch, who had been looking a little puzzled.

"But I had the hell of a wrangle with a Boche witch who came over.

We fought till we fell off our broomsticks, and then she quoted the _Daily Mail_ at me, and then she fell through a hole and broke her back over the cross on St.Paul's." It was Miss MacBee's turn to look puzzled, but she said to Miss Ford: "My dear, you have brought us a real mystic." Mr.Frere, though emitting an applauding murmur, leaned back and fixed his face in the ambiguous expression of one who, while listening with interest to the conversation of liars, is determined not to appear deceived.
"How d'you mean--mystic ?" asked the witch.

"I don't think I can have made myself clear.

Excuse me," she added to Miss Ford, "but this room smells awfully clever to any one coming in from outside.