Magrat unfolded a map. It was creased, damp, and the pencil had run. She pointed cautiously to a smudged area.
‘I think we’re here,’ she said.
‘My word,’ said Nanny Ogg, whose grasp of the principles of cartography was even shakier than Granny’s. ‘Amazing how we can all fit on that little bit of paper.' (WA)
‘I think we’re here,’ she said.
‘My word,’ said Nanny Ogg, whose grasp of the principles of cartography was even shakier than Granny’s. ‘Amazing how we can all fit on that little bit of paper.' (WA)
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