Angua wrinkled her muzzle.
'How come you smell so bad? I mean, you smelled bad enough when I was human, but now—'
Gaspode looked proud.
'Good, innit,' he said. 'It didn't just happen. I had to work at it. If you was a true dog, this'd be like really great aftershave. By the way, you want to get a collar, miss. No-one bothers you if you've got a collar.'
'Thanks.'
Gaspode seemed to have something on his mind.
'Er . . . you don't rip hearts out, do you?'
'Not unless I want to,' said Angua.
'Right, right, right,' said Gaspode hurriedly. 'Where're you going?'
He broke into a waddling, bow-legged trot to keep up with her.
'To have a sniff around Hammerhock's place. I didn't ask you to come.'
'Got nothing else to do,' said Gaspode. 'The House of Ribs don't put its rubbish out till midnight.'
'Haven't you got a home to go to ?' said Angua, as they trotted under a fish-and-chip stall.
'Home? Me? Home? Yeah. Of course. No problemo. Laughing kids, big kitchen, three meals a day, humorous cat next door to chase, own blanket and spot by the fire, he's an old softy but we love him, ekcetra. No problem there. I just like to get out a bit,' said Gaspode.
'Only, I see you haven't got a collar.'
'It fell off.'
'Right?'
'It was the weight of all them rhinestones.'
'I expect it was.'
'They let me do pretty much as I like,' said Gaspode.
'I can see that.'
'Sometimes I don't go home for, oh, days at a time.'
'Right?'
'Weeks, sometimes.'
'Sure.'
'But they're always so glad to see me when I do,' said Gaspode.
'I thought you said you slept up at the University,' said Angua, as they dodged a cart in Rime Street.
For a moment Gaspode smelled uncertain, but he recovered magnificently.
'Yeah, right,' he said. 'We-ell, you know how it is, families . . . All them kids picking you up, giving you biscuits and similar, people pattin' you the whole time. Gets on yer nerves. So I sleeps up there quite often.'
'Right.'