Мор - ученик смерти

           Afamiliarfiguresteppedoutfromtheflarearoundajelliedeelstall,holdingaplateofwinkles.

           THEVINEGARISPARTICULARLYPIQUANT.HELPYOURSELF,IHAVEANEXTRAPIN.

           But,ofcourse,justbecausehewasfortymilesawaydidn’tmeanhewasn’thereaswell....

           AndinhisuntidyroomCutwellturnedthegoldcoinoverandoverinhisfingers,muttering’walls’tohimself,anddrainingthebottle.

           Heappearedtonoticewhathewasdoingonlywhentherewasnomoretodrink,atwhichpointhiseyesfocusedonthebottleand,througharisingpinkmist,readthelabelwhichsaid’GrannyWeatherwax’sRamrubInvigoratoreandPassion’sPhiltre,OnneSpoonfulOnliebeforebedandthatSmalle’.

           ’Bymyself?’saidMort.

           CERTAINLY.IHAVEEVERYFAITHINYOU.

           ’Gosh!’

           ThesuggestionputeverythingelseoutofMort’smind,andhewasrathersurprisedtofindthathedidn’tfeelparticularlysqueamish.He’dseenquiteafewdeathsinthelastweekorso,andallthehorrorwentoutofitwhenyouknewyou’dbespeakingtothevictimafterwards.Mostofthemwererelieved,oneortwoofthemwereangry,buttheywereallgladofafewhelpfulwords.

           THINKYOUCANDOIT?