And then there was a strange putt-putting sound, like water negotiating its way through a partially blocked pipe.
Queen Molly of the Beggars' Guild had so far been silent apart from occasional damp sucking noises as she tried to dislodge a particle of her lunch from the things which, because they were still in her mouth and apparently attached, were technically her teeth.
Now she was laughing. The hairs wobbled on every wart. 'Nobby Nobbs?' she said. 'You're talking about Nobby Nobbs?
'He is the last known descendant of the Earl of Ankh, who could trace his descent all the way to a distant cousin to the last king/ said Mr Slant. 'It's the talk of the city.'
'A picture forms in my mind,' said Dr Downey. 'Small monkeylike chap, always smoking very short cigarettes. Spotty. He squeezes them in public.'
'That's Nobby!' Queen Molly chuckled. 'Face like a blind carpenter's thumb!'
'Him? But the man's a tit!'
'And dim as a penny candle,' said Mr Boggis. 'I don't see - '
Suddenly he stopped, and then contracted the contemplative silence that was gradually affecting everyone else around the table.
'Don't see why we shouldn't... give this... due consideration,' he said, after a while.
The assembled leaders looked at the table. Then they looked at the ceiling. Then they studiously avoided one another's gaze.
'Blood will out,' said Mr Carry.
'When I've watched him go down the street I've always thought: There's a man who walks in greatness, ' said Mrs Palm.
'He squeezes them in a very regal way, mind you. Very graciously.'
The silence rolled over the assembly again. But it was busy, in the same way that the silence of an anthill is busy.
'I must remind you, ladies and gentlemen, that poor Lord Vetinari is still alive,' said Mrs Palm.
'Indeed, indeed,' said Mr Slant. 'And long may he remain so. I've merely set out for you one option against that day, may it be a long time coming, when we should consider a ... successor.'
'In any case,' said Dr Downey, 'there is no doubt that Vetinari has been over-doing it. If he survives -which is greatly to be hoped, of course - I feel we should require him to step down for the sake of his health. Well done thou good and faithful servant, and so on. Buy him a nice house in the country somewhere. Give him a pension. Make sure there's a seat for him at official dinners. Obviously, if he can be so easily poisoned now he should welcome the release from the chains of office
'What about the wizards?' said Mr Boggis.
'They've never got involved in civic concerns,' said Dr Downey. 'Give 'em four meat meals a day and tip your hat to them and they're happy. They know nothing about politics.'
The silence that followed was broken by the voice of Queen Molly of the Beggars. 'What about Vimes?'
Dr Downey shrugged. 'He is a servant of the city.'
'That's what I mean.'
'Surely we represent the city?'
'Hah! He won't see it that way. And you know what Vimes thinks about kings. It was a Vimes who chopped the head off the last one. There's a bloodline that thinks a swing of an axe can solve anything.'
'Now, Molly, you know Vimes'd probably take an axe to Vetinari if he thought he could get away with it. No love lost there, I fancy.'
'He won't like it. That's all I tell you. Vetinari keeps Vimes wound up. No knowing what happens if he unwinds all at once - '
'He's a public servant!' snapped Dr Downey.
Queen Molly made a face, which was not difficult in one so naturally well endowed, and sat back. 'So this is the new way of things, is it?' she muttered. 'Lot of ordinary men sit around a table and talk and suddenly the world's a different place? The sheep turn round and charge the shepherd?'
'There's a soiree at Lady Selachii's house this evening,' said Dr Downey, ignoring her. 'I believe Nobbs is being invited. Perhaps we can... meet him.'