John William Waterhouse Psyche Entering Cupid's Garden

John William Waterhouse Psyche Entering Cupid's GardenJohn William Waterhouse Nymphs Finding the Head of OrpheusJohn William Waterhouse Juliet
she had the nerve to have a dagger-and-skull tattoo on her arm like Amanita did, even if it was only in ordinary ink and she had to wash it off every night in case her mother saw it.
A tiny, nasty voice from Perdita’s inner self suggested that Amanita wasn’t a good choice of name.
Or Perdita, for that matter.
And it said that maybe Perdita shouldn’t meddle with things she didn’t understand.
The trouble was, sheRaising power at the stones, for one thing. It really worked.
Currently she was showing them the cards.
The wind had got up again tonight. It rattled the shut-ters and made soot fall down the chimney. It seemed to Perdita that it had blown all the shadows into the comers of the room—
“Are you paying attention, sister?” said Diamanda coldly. knew, that this meant nearly every-thing.She wished she could wear black lace like Diamanda did.Diamanda got results.Perdita wouldn’t have believed it. She’d always known about witches, of course. They were old women who dressed like crows, except for Magrat Garlick, who was frankly mental and always looked as if she was going to burst into tears. Perdita remembered Magrat bringing a gui-tar to a Hogswatchnight party once and singing wobbly folk songs with her eyes shut in a way that suggested that she really believed in them. She hadn’t been able to play, but this was all right because she couldn’t sing, either. People had applauded because, well, what else could you do?But Diamanda had read books. She knew about stuff.