'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?'
'Mmf,'
'Not too hot?'
William gratefully sprayed the tea in the direction of the river.
'Ah!' he said. 'Yes! Too hot! That's what it was! Too hot! Lovely tea but - too hot! I'll just put the rest down here by my foot to cool down, shall I?'
He snatched up his pencil and pad.
'So... er, Wuffles, which man was it that you bit on the leg?'
Wuffles barked.
'He bit all of them,' said the voice of Deep Bone. 'When you're biting, why stop?'
'Would you know them if you bit them again?'
'He says he would. He says the big man tasted of... you know...' Deep Bone paused, 'like a... wossname... big, big bowl with hot water and soap in it.'
'A bath?'
Wuffles growled.
'That'd... be the word,' said Deep Bone. 'An' the other one smelled of cheap hair oil. And the one who looked like G-- like Lord Vetinari, he smelled of wine,'
'Wine?'
'Yes. Wuffles also says he'd like to apologize for biting you just now, but he got carried away with the recollection. We-- that is to say, dogs have very physical memories, if you see what I mean,'
William nodded and rubbed his leg. The description of the invasion of the Oblong Office had been carried out in a succession of yelps, barks and growls, with Wuffles running around in circles and snapping at his own tail until he bumped into William's ankle.
'And Ron's been carrying him around in his coat ever since?'
'No one bothers Foul Ole Ron,' said Deep Bone.
'I believe you,' said William. He nodded at Wuffles.
'I want to get an iconograph of him,' he said. This is... amazing stuff. But we must have a picture to prove I've really talked to Wuffles. Well... via an interpreter, obviously. I wouldn't want people to think this is one of the Inquirer's stupid "talking dog" stories...'
There was some muttering amongst the crew. The request was not being favourably received.
This is a select neighbourhood, you know,' said the Duck Man. 'We don't allow just anybody down here,'