He smiled, but a little cautiously. 'I can see we will have a lot to learn,' he said. 'I understood every word in that sentence, but not the sentence itself. I'm sure there is a lot you could teach me. And, indeed, I could teach you...'
'No,' said Agnes, flatly.
'But when we- Oh, what is that moron doing now?'
A cloud of dust was advancing from the direction of the kitchens. In the middle of it, holding a bucket and a shovel, was Igor.
'Igor!'
'Yeth, marthter?'
'You're putting down dust again, aren't you?'
'Yeth, marthter.'
'And why are you putting down dust, Igor?' said Vlad icily.
'You've got to have dutht, marthter. It'th tradi-'
'Igor, Mother told you. We don't want dust. We don't want huge candlesticks. We don't want eyeholes cut in all the pictures, and we certainly don't want your wretched box of damn spiders and your stupid little whip!'
In the ringing, red-hot silence Igor looked down at his feet.
'... thpiderth webth ith what people ecthpect, marthter...' he mumbled.
'We don't want them!'
'... the old Count liked my thpiderth...' said Igor, his voice like some little insect that would nevertheless not be squashed.
'It's ridiculous, Igor.'
'... he uthed to thay, "Good webth today, Igor..."'
'Look, just... just go away, will you? See if you can't sort out that dreadful smell from the garderobe. Mother says it makes her eyes water. And stand up straight and walk properly!' Vlad called after him. 'No one's impressed by the limp!'
Agnes saw Igor's retreating back pause for a moment, and she expected him to say something. But then he continued his wobbly walk.
'He's such a big baby,' said Vlad, shaking his head. 'I'm sorry you had to see that.'
'Yes, I think I'm sorry too,' said Agnes.
'He's going to be replaced. Father's only been keeping him on out of sentiment. I'm afraid he came with the old castle, along with the creaking roof and the strange smell halfway up the main stairs which, I have to say, is not as bad as the one we've noticed here. Oh dear... look at this, will you? We turn our back for five minutes...'
There was a huge and very dribbly candle burning in a tall black candlestick.
'King Verence had all those oil lamps put in, a lovely modern light, and Igor's been going around replacing them with candles again! We don't even know where he gets them from. Lacci thinks he saves his earwax...'
They were in the long room beside the great hall now. Vlad lifted the candlestick up so that the flame's glow lit the wall.
'Ah, they've put the pictures up. You ought to get to know the family...'
The light fell on a portrait of a tall, thin, greyhaired man in evening dress and a red-lined cloak. He looked quite distinguished in a distant, aloof sort of way. There was the glimmer of a lengthened canine on his lower lip. ;What good will that do?'
'You told me yourself,' said Nanny. 'Vampires don't affect you. As soon as they try to see Agnes's mind it sinks down and up pops Perdita like a seesaw. Just when they're looking at Perdita, here comes Agnes again. Young Vlad's definitely got his eye on you, ain't he?'
'Certainly not!'
'Yeah, right,' said Nanny. 'Men always like women that've got a bit of mystery to 'em. They like a challenge, see? And while he's got his eye on you keeping your eye on Magrat, you've got your other eye on him, understand? Everyone's got a weakness. Maybe we'll not see the back of these vampires by going over to the curtains and saying, "My, isn't it stuffy in here?" but there's got to be some other way.'