“Okay, Nessa,” Susan said, and she smiled complicitly at Hilary.

[…] th’ Archangelic Power prepar’d For swift descent, with him the Cohort bright Of watchful Cherubim;

burry wool

Eustace gaped at him in amazement. When his urbanity dropped away from him, as now, he had an innocence of expression which was almost infantile. It was as if the world had never touched him at all.