'I'd prefer a brandy,' said Moist. He thought perhaps Anoia was just awaiting her moment. I'd better go to her temple and hang up a big, big ladle. It may not be a good idea to be ungrateful...
Secretary Drumknott tiptoed into Lord Vetinari's office on velvet-shod feet.
'Good morning,' said his lordship, turning away from the window. 'The fog has a very pleasing tint of yellow this morning. Any news about Heretofore?'
'The Watch in Quirm are searching for him, sir,' said Drumknott, putting the city edition of the Times in front of him.
'Why?'
'He bought a ticket for Quirm.'
'But he will have bought another one from the coachman for Genua. He will run as far as he can. Send a short clacks to our man there, will you?'
'I hope you are right, sir.'
'Do you? I hope I am wrong. It will be good for me. Ah. Ahaha.'
'Sir?'
'I see the Times has put colour on the front page again. The front and back of the one-dollar note.'
'Yes, sir. Very nice.'
'Actual size, too,' said Vetinari, still smiling. 'I see here that this is to familiarize people with the look of the thing. Even now, Drumknott, even now, honest citizens are carefully cutting out both sides of this note and gluing them together.'
'Shall I have a word with the editor, sir?'
'Don't. It will be more entertaining to let things take their course.'
Vetinari leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes with a sigh. 'Very well, Drumknott, I feel strong enough now to hear what the political cartoon looks like.'
There was a crackle of paper as Drumknott found the right page.
'Well, there is a very good likeness of Mr Fusspot.' Under Vetinari's chair the dog opened his eyes at the sound of his name. So did his new master, with more urgency.
'Surely he has nothing in his mouth?'
'No, sir,' said Drumknott calmly. 'This is the Times of Ankh-Morpork, sir.'
Vetinari relaxed again. 'Continue.'
'He is on a leash, sir, and looking unaccustomedly ferocious. You are holding the leash, sir. In front of him, and backing nervously into a corner, are a group of very fat cats. They are wearing top hats, sir.'
'As cats do, yes.'
'And they have the words "The Banks" on them,' Drumknott added.
'Subtle indeed!'
'Whilst you, sir, are waving a handful of paper money at them and the speech bubble says - '
'Don't tell me. "THIS does NOT taste of pineapple"?'
'Well done, sir. Incidentally, it does so happen that the chairmen of the rest of the city banks wish to see you, at your convenience.'
'Good. This afternoon, then.'
Vetinari got up and walked over to the window. The fog was thinning, but its drifting cloud still obscured the city.