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what the future meant. But she’d never heard of alternative pasts. She could remember hav-ing just gone through the stones, if she concentrated. But she could remember other things. She could remember being in bed in her own house, but that was it, it was a house, not a cottage, but she was her, they were her own memories... she had a nagging feeling that she was asleep, right now . . .
Dully, she tried to focus on Nanny Ogg. There was something comfortingly solid about Gytha Ogg.
Nanny had I ain’t having that
again. The thought of someone carrying off our Pewsey—“
“Even elves ain’t that daft. Never seen such a sticky child in all my life.”
119
Terry Pratehett
Granny pulled gently at Diamanda’s eyelid.produced a penknife.“What the hell are you doing?”“Going to put it out of its misery, Esme.”“Doesn’t look miserable to me.”Nanny Ogg’s eyes gleamed speculatively.“Could soon arrange that, Esme.”“Don’t go torturing it just because it’s lying down, Gytha.”“Damn well ain’t waiting for it to stand up again, Esme.”“Gytha.”“Well, they used to carry off babies.