—I'm going to clean your whole house. —As if!

And now grim and woundsome grew the battle, for the Demons mightily withstood the onset of the Witches, …

The hawthorn is bursting in blossom, / The flowerets flush under our feet, / All round us life's pulses are throbbing;— / Sing, birdies, the Springtide to greet!

Take no gaum, he said. I've not heard her. This is between thee and me, Tommy. I'll use but one hand.