Father--Mother--the darling Lamb--all far away.

Then a warm, comfortable feeling flowed through her.

The Psammead was here, and at least half a charm, and there were to be adventures.

(If you don't know what a cold pain is, I am glad for your sakes, and I hope you never may.) 'Now,' said the Psammead cheerily, 'you are not particularly nice, nor particularly clever, and you're not at all good-looking.

Still, you've saved my life--oh, when I think of that man and his pail of water!--so I'll tell you all I know.