They were thoroughly tired of the Knight‘s talk before hey had finished supper. Puddleglum was thinking， “I onder what game that witch is really playing with this oung fool.” Scrubb was thinking， “He’s a great baby， really： ed to that woman‘s apron strings； he’s a sap.” And Jill as thinking， “He‘s the silliest， most conceited， selfish pig ve met for a long time.” But when the meal was over， the night’s mood had changed. There was no more laughter bout him.
“Friends，” he said， “my hour is now very near. I amshamed that you should see me yet I dread being left one. They will come in presently and bind me hand and oot to yonder chair. Alas， so it must be； for in my fury， they ll me， I would destroy all that I could reach.”
“I say，” said Scrubb， “I‘m awfully sorr y about your nchantment of course， but what will those fellows do to us hen they come to bind you？ They talked of putting us in rison. And we don’t like all those dark places very much. e‘d much rather stay here till you’re . . . better . . . if we ay.”