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Fool said, 'How did you get to be a witch?'
'Um?'
'I mean, did you go to a school or something?'
'Oh. No. Goodie Whemper just walked down to the village one day, got all us girls lined up, and chose me. You don't choose the Craft, you see. It chooses you.'
'Yes, but when do you actually become a witch?'
'When the other witches treat you as one, I suppose.' Magrat sighed. 'If they ever do,' she added. 'I thought they would after I did that spell in the corridor. It was pretty good, after all.'
'Marry, t'was a rite of passage,' said the Fool, unable to stop himself. Magrat gave him a blank look. He coughed.
'The other witches being those two old ladies?' he said, relapsing into his usual gloom.
'Yes.'
'Very strong master. Right up until he dies. I'm afraid it's tradition. Tradition is very important.'
'But you don't even like being a Fool!'
'I hate it. But that's got nothing to do with it. If I've got to be a Fool, I'll do it properlycharacters, I imagine.''Very,' said Magrat, with feeling.'I wonder if they ever met my grandad,' said the Fool.Magrat looked at her feet.'They're quite nice really,' she said. 'It's just that, well, when you're a witch you don't think about other people. I mean, you think about them, but you don't actually think about their feelings, if you see what I mean. At least, not unless you think about it.' She looked at her feet again.'You're not like that,' said the Fool.'Look, I wish you'd stop working for the duke,' said Magrat desperately. 'You know what he's like. Torturing people and setting fire to their cottages and everything.''But I'm his Fool,' said the Fool. 'A Fool has to be loyal to his
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