She had lost her hold on the reins of that usually dignified equipage; there was nothing now for her to do but to grip tight and keep her head.
She therefore concealed her ignorance of her newest guest's identity, she stiffened her lips and poured out another cup of tea with a nerveless hand.

The stranger took the cup of tea with some relief, and said: "Thenk you, meddem." The witch stopped dancing, and stood in front of the newcomer's chair.
"I think yours must be a discouraging job," she said to him.

"Getting people punished for doing things you'd love to do yourself.

Oh, awfully discouraging.

And do tell me, there's a little problem that's been on my mind ever since the war started.