'That's made up!' said William.
'Can't be,' said Mackleduff. 'There's the lady's name and address, right there. They wouldn't put that in the paper if they were telling lies, would they?'
William looked at the name and address. 'I know this lady,' he said.
'There you are, then!'
'She was the one last month who said her husband had been carried off by a big silver dish that came out of the sky,' said William, who had a good memory for this sort of thing. He'd nearly put it in his news letter as an 'On a lighter note' but had thought better of it. 'And you, Mr Prone, said everyone knew her husband had carried himself off with a lady called Flo who used to work as a waitress in Harga's House of Ribs.'
Mrs Arcanum gave William a sharp look which said that the whole subject of nocturnal kitchenware theft could be re-opened at any time, extra egg or no.
'I am not partial to that kind of talk at the table,' she said coldly.
'Well, then, it's obvious,' said Mr Cartwright. 'He must've come back.'
'From the silver dish or from Flo?' said William.
'Mr de Worde!'
'I was only asking,' said William. 'Ah, I see they're revealing the name of the man who broke into the jeweller's the other day. Shame it's Done It Duncan, poor old chap.'
'A notorious criminal, by the sound of it,' said Mr Windling. 'It's shocking that the Watch won't arrest him.'
'Especially since he calls on them every day,' said William.
'Whatever for?'
'A hot meal and a bed for the night,' said William. 'Done It Duncan confesses to everything, you see. Original sin, murders, minor thefts... everything. When he's desperate he tries to turn himself in for the reward.'
'Then they ought to do something about him,' said Mrs Arcanum.
'I believe they generally give him a mug of tea,' said William. He paused and then ventured: 'Is there anything in the other paper?'
'Oh, they're still trying to say that Vetinari didn't do it,' said Mr Mackleduff. 'And the King of Lancre says women in Lancre don't give birth to snakes.'
'Well, he would say that, wouldn't he?' said Mrs Arcanum.
'Vetinari must've done something,' said Mr Windling. 'Otherwise why would he be helping the Watch with their inquiries? That's not the action of an innocent man, in my humble opinion.'*
'I believe there's plenty of evidence that throws doubt on his guilt,' said William.
'Really,' said Mr Windling, making the word suggest that William's opinion was considerably more humble than his. 'Anyway, I understand the Guild leaders are meeting today.' He sniffed. 'It's time for a change. Frankly, we could do with a ruler who is a little more responsive to the views of ordinary people.'
William glanced at Mr Longshaft, the dwarf, who was peacefully cutting some toast into soldiers. Perhaps he hadn't noticed. Perhaps there was nothing to notice and William was being over sensitive. But years of listening to Lord de Worde's opinions had given him a certain ear. It told him when phrases like 'the views of ordinary people', innocent and worthy in themselves, were being used to mean that someone should be whipped.
'How do you mean?' he said.
The... city is getting too big,' said Mr Windling. 'In the old days the gates were kept shut, not left open to all and sundry. And people could leave their doors unlocked.'
'We didn't have anything worth stealing,' said Mr Cartwright.
That's true. There's more money around,' said Mr Prone.
'It doesn't all stay here, though,' said Mr Windling. That was true, at least. 'Sending money home' was the major export activity of the city, and dwarfs were right at the front of it. William also knew that most of it came back again, because dwarfs bought from the best dwarf craftsmen and, mostly, the best dwarf craftsmen worked in Ankh-Morpork these days. And they sent money back
* The best way to describe Mr Windling would be like this: you are at a meeting. You'd like to be away early. So would everyone else. There really isn't very much to discuss, anyway. And just as everyone can see Any Other Business coming over the horizon and is already putting their papers neatly together, a voice says 'If I can raise a minor matter, Mr Chairman...' and with a horrible wooden feeling in your stomach you know, now, that the evening will go on for twice as long with much referring back to the minutes of earlier meetings. The man who has just said that, and is now sitting there with a smug smile of dedication to the committee process, is as near Mr Windling as makes no difference. And something that distinguishes the Mr Windlings of the universe is the term 'in my humble opinion', which they think adds weight to their statements rather than indicating, in reality, 'these are the mean little views of someone with the social grace of duckweed'.
home. A tide of gold coins rolled back and forth and seldom had a chance to go cold. But it upset the Windlings of the city.