Oh, a duel! A duel!
‘No good making an entrance if everyone isn’t there to see you, is it? That’s headology.’
In fact the young coven arrived at twenty past twelve, and took up station on the steps of the market pentangle on the other side of the square.
‘Look at ’em,’ said Granny Weatherwax. ‘All in black, again.’
‘Well, we wear black too,’ said Nanny Ogg the reasonable.
I'm loving this book, btw.
And there was this, too:
Nanny Ogg, on the other hand, was instant putty in the hands of any grandchild, even one as sticky as Pewsey.
‘Want sweetie,’ growled Pewsey, in that curiously deep voice some young children have. ‘Just in a moment, my duck, I’m talking to the lady,’ Nanny Ogg fluted.
‘Want sweetie now.’
‘Bugger off, my precious, Nana’s busy right this minute.’
Pewsey pulled hard on Nanny Ogg’s skirts. ‘Now sweetie now!’
Granny Weatherwax leaned down until her impressive nose was about level with Pewsey’s gushing one.
‘If you don’t go away,’ she said gravely, ‘I will personally rip your head off and fill it with snakes.’
‘There!’ said Nanny Ogg. ‘There’s lots of poor children in Klatch that’d be grateful for a curse like that.’
Pewsey’s little face, after a second or two of uncertainty, split into a pumpkin grin.
‘Funny lady,’ he said.
‘Tell you what,’ said Nanny, patting Pewsey on the head and then absent-mindedly wiping her hand on her dress, ‘you see them young ladies on the other side of the square? They’ve got lots of sweeties.’
Pewsey waddled off.
‘That’s germ warfare, that is,’ said Granny Weatherwax.