'I'm Corporal Nobbs,' said Nobby.
An eye applied itself to the grille. It took in the full, dreadful extent of the godly handiwork that was Corporal Nobbs.
'Are you the baboon? We've had one on order for...'
'No. I've come about some coat with arms,' said Nobby.
'You?' said the voice. The owner of the voice made it very clear that he was aware there were degrees of nobility from something above kingship stretching all the way down to commoner, and that as far as Corporal Nobbs was concerned an entirely new category - commonest, perhaps - would have to be coined.
'I've been told,' said Nobby, miserably. 'It's about this ring I got.'
'Go round the back door,' said the voice.
Cheery was tidying away the makeshift equipment he'd set up in the privy when a sound made him look around. Angua was leaning against the doorway.
'What do you want?' he demanded.
'Nothing. I just thought I'd say: don't worry, I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to.'
'I don't know what you're talking about!'
'I think you're lying.'
Cheery dropped a test tube, and sagged on to a seat. 'How could you tell?' he said. 'Even other dwarfs can't tell! I've been so careful!'
'Shall we just say ... I have special talents?' said Angua.
Cheery started to clean a beaker distractedly.
'I don't know why you're so upset,' said Angua. 'I thought dwarfs hardly recognized the difference between male and female, anyway. Half the dwarfs we bring in here on a No. 23 are female, I know that, and they're the ones that are hardest to subdue...'
'What's a No. 23?'
. ' Running Screaming at People While Drunk and Trying to Cut Their Knees off',' said Angua. 'It's easier to give them numbers than write it down every time. Look, there's plenty of women in this town that'd love to do things the dwarf way. I mean, what're the choices they've got? Barmaid, seamstress or someone's wife. While you can do anything the men do...'
'Provided we do only what the men do,' said Cheery.
Angua paused. 'Oh,' she said. 'I see. Hah. Yes. I know that tune.'
'I can't hold an axe!' said Cheery. 'I'm scared of fights! I think songs about gold are stupid! I hate beer! I can't even drink dwarfishly! When I try to quaff I drown the dwarf behind me!'
'I can see that could be tricky,' said Angua.
'I saw a girl walk down the street here and some men whistled after her! And you can wear dressesl With colours!'
'Oh, dear.' Angua tried not to smile. 'How long have lady dwarfs felt like this? I thought they were happy with the way things are...'
'Oh, it's easy to be happy when you don't know any different,' said Cheery bitterly. 'Chainmail trousers are fine if you've never heard of lingerry!'
'Li - oh, yes,' said Angua. 'Lingerie. Yes.' She tried to feel sympathetic and found that she was, really, but she did have to stop herself from saying that at least you don't have to find styles that can easily be undone by paws.
'I thought I could come here and get a different kind of job,' Cheery moaned. 'I'm good at needlework and I went to see the Guild of Seamstresses and - ' She stopped, and blushed behind her beard.
'Yes,' said Angua. 'Lots of people make that mistake.' She stood up straight and brushed herself off. 'You've impressed Commander Vimes, anyway. I think you'll like it here. Everyone's got troubles in the Watch. Normal people don't become policemen. You'll get on fine.'
'Commander Vimes is a bit...' Cheery began.
'He's okay when he's in a good mood. He needs to drink but he doesn't dare to these days. You know: one drink is too many, two is not enough... And that makes him edgy. When he's in a bad mood he'll tread on your toes and then shout at you for not standing up straight.'