“Help！ Help！ Mercy！” cried the Witch in a faint voice， staggering after them. “Take me with you. You cannot mean to leave me in this horrible place. It is killing me.”
“It‘s a reason of State，” said Polly spitefully. “Like when you killed all those people in your own world. Do be quick， Digory.” They had put on their green rings， but Digory said： “Oh， bother！ What are we to do？” He couldn’t helpfeeling a little sorry for the Queen.
“Oh， don‘t be such an ass，” said Polly. “Ten to one she’s only shamming. Do come on.” And then both children plunged into the home pool. “It‘s a good thing we made that mark，” thought Polly. But as they jumped Digory felt that a large cold finger and thumb had caught him by the ear. And as they sank down and the confused shapes of our own world began to appear， the grip of that finger and thumb grew stronger. The Witch was apparently recovering her strength. Digory struggled and kicked， but it was not of the least use. In a moment they found themselves in Uncle Andrew’s study； and there was Uncle Andrew himself， staring at the wonderful creature that Digory had brought back from beyond the world.