‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. “Bother!” and decided that this was not so, and would not look to right or left again. "But it won't do. What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. To win the contest meant you would be chosen to apprentice in magic as a priest under her tutelage. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. The spectacle seemed to afford as much amusement to Jonathan as to the actors engaged in it. She was as fair as the lily of the lotus.
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