'I don't think that means you should be able to see your own eyeball,' said Moist, rubbing his neck. Gladys's eyes dimmed so much that he was moved to add: 'I feel much better now, though. It's so nice to look down and not see my heels.'
'Don't you listen to him, it wasn't that bad,' said Peggy, with sisterly fellow feeling. 'Men always make a big fuss over a little pain.'
'They Are Just Big Cuddly Babies, Really,' said Gladys. That caused a thoughtful pause.
'Where did that come from?' said Moist.
'The Information Was Imparted To Me By Glenda At The Stamp Counter.'
'Well, from now on I don't want you to - '
The big doors swung open. They let in a hubbub from the floors below, and riding the noise like some kind of aural surfer was Mr Bent, saturnine and far too shiny for this time of the morning.
'Good morning, Master,' he said icily. 'The street outside is full of people. And might I take this opportunity to congratulate you on disproving a theory currently much in vogue at Unseen University?'
'Huh?' said Moist.
'There are, some like to suggest, an infinite number of universes in order to allow everything that may happen a place to happen in. This is of course nonsense, which we entertain only because we believe words are the same as reality. Now, however, I can prove my point, since in such an infinity of worlds there would have to be one where I would applaud your recent actions and, let me assure you, sir, infinity is not that big!' He drew himself up. 'People are hammering on the doors! They want to close their accounts! I told you banking was about trust and confidence!'
'Oh dear,' said Moist.
'They are asking for gold!'
'I thought that's what you prom - '
'It is only a metaphorical promise! I told you, it is based on the understanding that no one will actually demand it!'
'How many people want to withdraw their money?' said Moist.
'Nearly twenty!'
'Then they are making a lot of noise, aren't they?'
Mr Bent looked uncomfortable. 'Well, there are some others,' he said. 'A few misguided people are seeking to open accounts, but - '
'How many?'
'About two or three hundred, but - '
'Opening accounts, you say?' said Moist. Mr Bent was squirming.
'Only for trifling sums, a few dollars here and there,' he said dismissively. 'It would appear that they think you have "something up your sleeve".' The inverted commas shuddered like a well-bred girl picking up a dead vole.
Some of Moist recoiled. But part of him began to feel the wind on his face.
'Well, let's not disappoint them, shall we?' he said, picking up the gold top hat, which was still a bit sticky. Bent glared at it.
'The other banks are furious, you know,' he said, high-stepping hurriedly after Moist as the Master of the Mint headed for the stairs.
'Is that good or bad?' said Moist over his shoulder. 'Listen, what's the rule about bank lending? I heard it once. It's about interest.'
'Do you mean "Borrow at one-half, lend at two, go home at three"?' said Bent.
'Right! I've been thinking about that. We could shave those numbers, couldn't we?'
'This is Ankh-Morpork! A bank has to be a fortress! That is expensive!'
'But we could alter them a bit, couldn't we? And we don't pay interest on balances of less than a hundred dollars, correct?'