From Protector of the Grey House:
The apartment was filled with odd smells and sights. The walls were covered in archaic symbols, too old to be recognized by a non-witch. Incense and candles were burning in every corner of the room and in various places throughout. Ten books were open in the center of the room and in the middle of the circle was a woman of about sixty. She had long greasy gray hair and was much too thin to be healthy. She was sitting on the floor, naked, rocking back and forth, chanting.
“Who is she?”
“His witch. She’s so wrapped up in the spells she’s chanting that she can’t perceive anything beyond the circle.”