"What?" said Vimes, mystified.
"Werewolves hate cats," said Sybil. "I distinctly remember that. Definitely not cat people."
"Hah. No. Dog people. They don"t like words like bath or vet, either. I reckon if you threw a stick at the Baron he"d leap out of his chair to catch it - "
"I suppose I ought to tell you about the carpets," said Sybil, as the coach rocked around a corner.
"What, isn"t he house-trained?"
"I meant the carpets in the embassy. You know I said I"d measure up for them? Well, the measurements aren"t right on the first floor..."
"I don"t want to sound impatient, dear, but is this a carpet moment?"
"Sam?"
"Yes,, dear?"
"Just stop thinking like a husband and start listening like a... a copper, will you?"
Vimes marched into the embassy and summoned Detritus and Cheery. "You two are coming with us to the ball tonight," he said. "It"ll be posh. Have you got anything to wear apart from your uniform, sergeant?"
"No, sir."
"Well, go and see Igor. There"s a good man with a needle if I ever saw one. How about you, Cheery?"
"I do, er, have a gown," said Cheery, looking down shyly.
"You do?"
"Yes, sir."
"Oh. Well. Good. I"m putting the two of you on the embassy staff, too. Cheery, you"re... you"re Military Attache."
"Oh," said Detritus, disappointed.
"And, Detritus, you"re Cultural Attache."
The troll brightened up considerably. "You will not regret dis, sir!"
"I"m sure I won"t," said Vimes. "Right now, I"d like you to come with me."
"Is dis a cultural matter, sir?"
"Broadly. Perhaps."
Vimes led the troll and Sybil up the stairs and into the office, where he stopped in front of a wall.
"This one?" he said.
"Yes," said his wife. "It"s hard to notice until you measure the rooms, but that wall really is rather thick - "
Vimes ran his hands along the panelling, looking for anything that might go "click". Then he stood back.
"Give me your crossbow, sergeant."
"Here we are, sir."
Vimes staggered under its weight but managed to get it pointed at the wall.