Mark Spain Timeless Beauty

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of Esme Weatherwax’s head, at the tight bun of gray hair under the brim of the pointy hat.
“Sweet?” she said.
“I expect you’ve got another bag now,” said Granny, without looking around.
“Esme—“
“You got anything to say, Gytha? About bags of sweets?”
Granny Weatherwax still hadn’t turned around.
Nanny looked at her boots.
“No, Esme,” she said meekly.
“I knew “It’s legal, is it?”
“Technically they shouldn’t do it when there’s women present,” said Nanny. “Otherwise it’s sexual morrisment.”you’d go up to the Long Man, you know. How’d you get in?”“Used one of the special horseshoes.”Granny nodded. “You didn’t ought to have brung him into it, Gytha.”“Yes, Esme.”“He’s as tricky as she is.”“Yes, Esme.”“You’re trying preemptive meekness on me.”“Yes, Esme.”They walked a little further.“What was that dance your Jason and his men did when they’d got drunk?” said Granny.“It’s the Lancre Stick and Bucket Dance, Esme.”