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t out of the world．”
“What have you done to her ？”
“Sent her to-well-to another place．”
“What do you mean ？”asked Digory．
Uncle Andrew sat down and said，“Well，I’ll tell you all about it．Have you ever heard of old Mrs. Lefay ？”
“Wasn’t she a great-aunt or something ？”said Digory．
“Not exactly，”said Uncle Andrew．“She was my godmother． That’s her，there，on the wall．”
Digory looked and saw a faded photograph：it showed the face of an old woman in a bonnet．And he could now remember that he had once seen a photo of the same face in an old drawer， at home，in the country．He had asked his Mother who it was and Mother had not seemed to want to talk about the subject much．It was not at all a nice face，Digory thought，though of course with those early photographs one could never really tell．
“Was there-wasn’t there-something wrong about her，Uncle Andrew ？”he said．
“Well，”said Uncle Andrew with a chuckle，“it depends what you call wrong．Peo
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