'Especially you, Pucci,' said Cosmo, smiling at his sister. Vetinari didn't have a sister like Pucci, either. No one did, Cosmo was prepared to bet. She was a fiend in vaguely human shape.
'You've still got something wrong with your eyebrow, you know,' said Pucci. She had a table by herself, a voice like a saw encountering a nail with a slight additional touch of foghorn, and was always referred to as 'a society beauty', which showed just how rich the Lavishes were. Cut in half, she might make two society beauties but not, at that point, very beautiful ones. While it was said that men she had spurned jumped off bridges in despair, the only person known to have said this was Pucci herself.
'I'm sure you all know - ' Cosmo began.
'Thanks to your side of the family's total incompetence you have lost us the bank!'
That came from the far corner of the room, but it triggered a rising chorus of complaint.
'We are all Lavishes here, Josephine,' he said sternly. 'Some of us were even born a Lavish.'
That didn't work. It ought to have done. It would have done for Vetinari, Cosmo was sure. But for Cosmo, it only upset people. The growls of objection got louder.
'Some of us make a better job of it!' snapped Josephine. She was wearing a necklace of emeralds, and they reflected a greenish light on her face. Cosmo was impressed.
Whenever possible, Lavishes married distant cousins, but it wasn't uncommon for a few, every generation, to marry outside, in order to avoid the whole 'three thumbs' situation. The women found handsome husbands who did what they were told, while the men found wives who, amazingly, were remarkably good at picking up the petulance and shaved-monkey touchiness that was the mark of a true Lavish.
Josephine sat down with a poisonous look of satisfaction at the muttered chorus of agreement. She sprang up again, for an encore: 'And what do you intend to do about this unforgivable situation? Your branch has put a mountebank in control of our bank! Again!'
Pucci span in her seat. 'How dare you say that about Father!'
'And how dare you say that about Mr Fusspot!' said Cosmo.
It would have worked for Vetinari, he knew it. It would have made Josephine look silly and raised Cosmo's stock in the room. It would have worked for Vetinari, who could raise his eyebrow like a visual rim shot.
'What? What? What are you talking about?' said Josephine. 'Don't be so silly, child! I'm talking about this Lipwig creature! He's a postman, for goodness' sake! Why haven't you offered him money?'
'I have,' said Cosmo, and added for his inner ear: III remember 'child', you whey-faced old boot. When I am a master of the eyebrow we shall see what you say then!
'And?'
'I believe he is not interested in money.'
'Nonsense!'
'What about the little doggie?' said an elderly voice. 'What happens if it passes away, gods forbid?'
'The bank comes back to us, Aunt Careful,' said Cosmo, to a very small old lady in black lace, who was engaged in some embroidery.
'No matter how the little doggie dies?' said Aunt Carefulness Lavish, paying fastidious attention to her needlework. 'There is always the option of poison, I am sure.'
With an audible whoosh Aunt Careful's lawyer rose to his feet and said, 'My client wishes to make it clear that she is merely referring to the general availability of noxious substances in general and this is not intended to be and in no way should be taken as an espousal of any illegal course of action.'
He sat down again, fee earned.[4]
'Regrettably, the Watch would be all over us like cheap chain mail,' said Cosmo.
'Watchmen in our bank? Shut the door on them!'
'Times have moved on, Auntie. We can't do that any more.'
'When your great-grandfather pushed his brother over the balcony the Watch even took the body away for five shillings and a pint of ale all round!'
'Yes, Auntie. Lord Vetinari is the Patrician now.'
'And he'd allow watchmen to clump around in our bank?'
'Without a doubt, Auntie.'