For the Pretenderette was the only really unpleasant person Philip had ever met in the world.

It was Lucy's nurse, the nurse with the grey dress and the big fat feet, who had been so cross to him and had pulled down his city.
'How on earth,' Philip wondered to himself, 'did she get _here_?
And how on earth shall I get away from her ?' He had not seen the spears and the quicksands and the molten metal, and he was waiting unhappily for her to alight, and for a game of hide and seek to begin, which he was not at all anxious to play.
Even as he wondered, the Hippogriff spread wings and flew away.

And Philip was left alone on the island.

But what did that matter?
It was much better to be alone than with that Pretenderette.

And for Philip there were no white-hot metal and spears and snares of quicksand, only dewy grass and sweet flowers and trees and safety and delight.
'If only Lucy were here,' he said.
When he was quite sure that the Pretenderette was really gone, he came out and explored the island.