She found herself saying （and at the moment it was a relief to say）： “No. I suppose that other world must be all a dream.”
“Yes. It is all a dream，” said the Witch， always thrumming. “Yes， all a dream，” said Jill.
“There never was such a world，” said the Witch. “No，” said Jill and Scrubb， “never was such a world.”
“There never was any world but mine，” said the Witch. “There never was any world but yours，” said they.
Puddleglum was still fighting hard. “I don‘t know rightly what you all mean by a world，” he said， talking like a man who hasn’t enough air. “But you can play that fiddle till your fingers drop off， and still you won‘t make me forget Narnia； and the whole Overworld too. We’ll never see it again， I shouldn‘t wonder. You may have blotted it out and turned it dark like this， for all I know. Nothing more likely. But I know I was there once. I’ve seen the sky full of stars. I‘ve seen the sun coming up out of the sea of a morning and sinking behind the mountains at night. And I’ve seen him up in the midday sky when I couldn‘t look at him for brightness.”
Puddleglum’s words had a very rousing effect. The other three all breathed again and looked at one another like people newly awaked.
