Children have one kind of silliness， as you know， and grown.ups have another kind. At this moment Uncle Andrew was beginning to be silly in a very grown.up way. Now that the Witch was no longer in the same room with him he was quickly forgetting how she had frightened him and thinking more and more of her wonderful beauty. He kept on saying to himself， “A dem fine woman， sir， a dem fine woman. A superb creature.” He had also somehow managed to forget that it was the children who had got hold of this “superb creature”： he felt as if he himself by his Magic had called her out of unknown worlds.
“Andrew， my boy，” he said to himself as he looked in the glass， “you‘re a devilish well.preserved fellow for your age. A distinguished.looking man， sir.”
You see， the foolish old man was actually beginning to imagine the Witch would fall in love with him. The two drinks probably had something to do with it， and so had his best clothes. But he was， in any case， as vain as a peacock； that was why he had become a Magician.