'What, him?' said Nanny.
'Could be carrying a torch for you,' said Magrat,
'I thought it was just to see where he's going!' said Nanny, a little bit of panic in her voice. 'I mean, I haven't got my best drawers on or anything!'
'I think he's a bit of a romantic, actually,' said Magrat.
'Oh, I don't know, I really don't,' said Nanny. 'I mean, it's flattering and everything, but I really don't think I could be goin' out with a man with a limp.'
'Limp what?'
Nanny Ogg had always considered herself unshockable, but there's no such thing. Shocks can come from unexpected directions.
'I am a married woman,' said Magrat, smiling at her expression. And it felt good, just once, to place a small tintack in the path of Nanny's carefree amble through life.
'But is... I mean, is Verence, you know, all right in the-'
'Oh, yes. Everything's... fine. But now I understand what your jokes were about.'
'What, all of them?' said Nanny, like someone who'd found all the aces removed from their favourite pack of cards.
'Well, not the one about the priest, the old woman and the rhinoceros.'
'I should just about hope so!' said Nanny. 'I didn't understand that one until I was forty!'
Igor limped back.
'There'th jutht the thervantth,' he said. 'You could thtay down in my quarterth in the old tower. There'th thick doorth.'
'Mrs Ogg would really like that,' said Magrat. 'She was saying just now what good legs you've got, weren't you, Nanny...'
'Do you want thome?' said Igor earnestly, leading the way up the steps. 'I've got plenty and I could do with the thpathe in the ithehouthe.'
'You what?' said Nanny, stopping dead.
'I'm your man if there'th any organ you need,' said Igor.
There was a strangled coughing noise from Magrat.
'You've got - bits of people stored on ice?' said Nanny, horrified. 'Bits of strange people? Chopped up? I'm not taking another step!'
Now Igor looked horrified.
'Not thtrangerth,' he said. 'Family.'
'You chopped up your family?' Nanny backed away.
Igor waved his hands frantically.
'It's a tradithion!' he said. 'Every Igor leaveth hith body to the family! Why wathte good organth? Look at my Uncle Igor, he died of buffaloeth, tho there wath a perfectly good heart and thome kidneyth going begging, pluth he'd thtill got Grandad'th handth and they were damn good handth, let me tell you.' He sniffed. 'I with I'd had them, he wath a great thurgeon.'
'We-ll... I know every family says things like 'He's got his father's eyes"-' Nanny began.
'No, my thecond couthin Igor got them.'
'But- but... who does the cutting and sewing?' said Magrat.
'I do. An Igor leamth houthehold thurgery on hith father'th knee,' said Igor. 'And then practitheth on hith grandfather'th kidneyth.'