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 Devil's face. For some reason or other her modesty seemed to have nettled him.

"Some people would say that you had flung yourself at my head."

"Other people," she retorted, "would say that you had been going about seeking to devour me."

"Exactly. I even roared that night. But you were asleep while I roared. Only the hills heard me triumphing over my spoil."

Laura said: "I wish I could really believe that."

"I wish you could, too," he answered affably; "you would feel so comfortable and important. But you won't, although it is much more probable than you might suppose."

Laura stretched herself out on the turf and pillowed her head on her arm.

"Nothing could feel more comfortable than I do, now that Titus is gone," she said. "And as for importance, I never wish to feel important again. I had enough of that when I was an aunt."

"Well, you're a witch now."

"Yes I really am, aren't I?"

"Irrevocably."

His voice was so perfectly grave that she