Tamara de Lempicka Saint Moritz

who’ll listen.” Granny Weatherwax’s eyes seemed to lose their focus.
“When you’re lonely, and people around you seem too stupid for words, and the world is full of secrets that no one’ll tell you ... “
“Are you reading my mind?”
“Yours?” Granny’s attention snapped back, and her voice lost its distant quality. “Hah! Flowers and suchlike. Dancing about without yer drawers on. Mucking about with cards and bits of string. And it worked, I expect. She gave Queen slightly ahead. Every witch knew her, or the shape of her.
Diamanda tripped and fell, and then managed to bring herself up to a kneeling position.
Granny stopped.
The Queen’s horse whinnied.
“Kneel before your Queen, you,” said the elf. She was wearing red, with a copper crown in her hair.
“Shan’t. Won’t,” said Granny Weatherwax.
“You are in my kingdom, woman,” said the Queen. “You do not come or go without the leave of me. You will kneel!”
“I come and go without the leave of anyone