“Briony scared?” said Eldric. “I’ve never seen anyone less scared in my life. She has nerves of iron.”

“My, my,” said Eldric. “You are full of surprises.”

“Blast Cecil!” said Eldric. “You have my permission,” I said.”

“There’s such a thing as being irritatingly ethical,” said Eldric. “That’s you, right now.” That’s a pleasant change. Witches are rarely accused of being irritatingly ethical.“I’ve swigged.” I handed the bottle to Eldric. “Or is it swug?” “Swug,” said Eldric. “It is in bad-boy circles, at least.” He swug. “It tastes much better outside church.” “It’s the picnic principle,” I said. “Things taste better outdoors. And if it’s a forbidden thing, so much the better.”

“The problem I have telling my secret', said Eldric, 'is that it's a secret.”

“A toast at your wedding, perhaps?” said Eldric. “I shall never get married,” I said. “But I do like champagne.”

“He scooped up my arm, swung me round. “Let go, Cecil,” I said. “I’ve a strange dislike of being forced.” “But Briony,” he said, “I’m so full of good spirits. I could walk to London, I think!” Why didn’t he?”