The proud cook in Glenda rose unstoppably. 'But she passed the recipe on to me.'
'A legacy better than jewels,' said Vetinari, nodding.
Actually a few jewels would not have gone amiss, Glenda reflected. But there was a secret of Bubble and Squeak, of course, right out there in the open where everyone could miss it. And as for the Truth of Salmagundi...
'I believe this audience is at an end, Miss Sugarbean,' said Vetinari. 'I have so much to do and so have you, I am sure.' He picked up his pen and turned his attention to the documents in front of him. 'Goodbye, Miss Sugarbean.'
And that was it. Somehow, she was at the door, and it had almost closed behind her when a voice said, 'And thank you for your kindnesses to Nutt.'
The door clicked shut, nearly hitting her in the face as she spun round.
'Was that a wise thing for me to have said, do you think?' said Vetinari, when she had gone.
'Possibly not, sir, but she will merely assume it is her that we are watching,' said Drumknott smoothly.
'Possibly we should. That's a Sugarbean woman for you, Drumknott, little domestic slaves until they think someone has been wronged and then they go to war like Queen Ynci of Lancre, with chariot wheels spinning and arms and legs all over the place.'
'And no father,' observed Drumknott. 'Not very good for a child in those days.'
'Only served to make her tougher. One can only hope she doesn't take it into her head to enter politics.'
'Is that not what she is doing now, sir?'
'Well noted, Drumknott. Do I appear drunk?'
'In my opinion no, sir, but you seem unusually... talkative.'
'Coherently?'
'To the minutest scruple, sir. The Postmaster is waiting, sir, and some of the guild leaders want to talk to you urgently.'
'I suspect they want to play football?'
'Yes, sir. They intend to form teams. I cannot for the life of me understand why.'
Vetinari put down his pen. 'Drumknott, if you saw a ball lying invitingly on the ground, would you kick it?'
The secretary's forehead wrinkled. 'How would the invitation be couched, sir?'
'I'm sorry?'
'Would it be, for example, a written note attached to the ball by person or persons unknown?'
'I was rather inclining to the idea that you might perhaps feel simply that the whole world was silently willing you to give said ball a hearty kick?'
'No, sir. There are too many variables. Possibly an enemy or japester might have assumed that I would take some action of the kind and made the ball out of concrete or similar material, in the hope I might do myself a serious or humorous injury. So, I would check first.'
'And then, if all was in order, you would kick the ball?'
'To what purpose or profit, sir?'
'Interesting question. I suppose for the joy of seeing it fly.'
Drumknott seemed to consider this for a while, and then shook his head. 'I am sorry, sir, but you have lost me at this point.'
'Ah, you are a pillar of rock in a world of changes, Drumknott. Well done.'
'I was wondering if I could just add something, sir,' said the secretary solemnly.