He stared at the spluttering flame.
Mr Slant had faced many bad things in the last few hundred years, but right now nothing seemed more menacing than Mr Pin. Or more erratically deranged, either. The man was swaying, and his gaze kept flickering into the shadowy corners of the room.
Mr Tulip shook his partner's shoulder. 'Let's --ing scrag him and go?' he suggested.
Pin blinked. 'Right,' he said, appearing to return to his own head. 'Right.' He glanced at the zombie. 'I think I shall let you live today,' he said, blowing out the flame. 'Tomorrow... who knows?'
It wasn't a bad threat, but somehow his heart wasn't in it.
Then the New Firm had gone.
Mr Slant sat down and stared at the closed door. It was clear to him, and a dead man has experience in these matters, that his two armed clerks, veterans of many a legal battle, were beyond help. Mr Tulip was an expert.
He took a sheet of writing paper from a drawer, wrote a few words in block letters, sealed it in an envelope and sent for another clerk.
'Have arrangements made,' he said, when the man stared at his fallen colleagues, 'and then take this to de Worde.'
'Which one, sir?'
For a moment Mr Slant had forgotten that point.
'Lord de Worde,' he said. 'Definitely not the other one.'
William de Worde turned a page in his notebook and continued to scribble. The crew were watching him as if he was a public entertainment.
That's a grand gift you have there, sur,' said Arnold Sideways. 'It does the heart good to see the pencil waggling like that. I wish I had the knowing of it, but I've never been mechanical.'
'Would you care for a cup of tea?' said the Duck Man.
'You drink tea down here?'
'Of course. Why not? What kind of people do you think we are?' The Duck Man held up a blackened teapot and a rusty mug with an inviting smile.
It was probably a good moment to be polite, thought William. Besides, the water would have been boiled, wouldn't it?
'... no milk, though,' he said quickly. He could imagine what the milk would be like.
'Ah, I said you were a gentleman,' said the Duck Man, pouring a tarry brown liquid into the mug. 'Milk in tea is an abomination.' He picked up, with a dainty gesture, a plate and pair of tongs. 'Slice of lemon?' he added.
'Lemon? You have lemon?'
'Oh, even Mr Ron here would rather wash under his arms than have anything but lemon in his tea,' said the Duck Man, plopping a slice into William's mug.
'And four sugars,' said Arnold Sideways.
William took a deep draught of the tea. It was thick and stewed, but it was also sweet and hot. And slightly lemony. All in all, he considered, it could have been much worse.
'Yes, we're very fortunate when it comes to slices of lemon,' said the Duck Man, busily fussing over the tea things. 'Why, it is indeed a bad day when we can't find two or three slices floating down the river.'
William stared fixedly at the river wall.
Spit or swallow, he thought, the eternal conundrum.
'Are you all right, Mr de Worde?'
'Mmf.'
'Too much sugar?'