proper answers, was not sorry. Nevertheless the pause seemed a little
empty, so she filled it herself, saying pedantically: "Of course I don't
believe friendship is an end in itself. Only a means to an end."

"I don't know what you mean," said the witch, after wrestling
conscientiously with this remark for a minute. "Do tell me--do you know
yourself, or are you just saying it to see what it means?"

Sarah Brown was obviously damped by this, and the witch added kindly: "I
bet you twopence you don't know what this place is."

"A shop," said Sarah Brown, who was sitting on the counter.

"It is a sort of convent and monastery mixed," replied the witch. "I am
connected with it officially. I undertook to manage it, yet I forget
what the proper word for me is. Not undertaker, is it?"

"Superintendent or secretary," suggested Sarah Brown moodily.

"Superintendent, I think," said the witch. "At least I know Peony calls
me Soup. Do you live alone?"

"Yes."

"Then you ought to live here. This is the only place in the world of its
kind. The name of this house is Living Alone. I'll read you the
prospectus."

She fell suddenly upon her knees and began fighting with a drawer. The
drawer was evidently one of the many descendants of the Sword