‘Does he do that a lot?’

‘Yes, but it gets hushed up, our dad says.’

‘There’s going to be hundreds of people there. That would need a lot of hush.’And if I don’t like what I hear, there won’t be enough hush in all the world,she thought.

Trev mooched aimlessly around the shop while Nutt and the dwarf put their headstogether over the ball. For some reason there was a faint scrabbling on theroof. It sounded like claws. Just a bird, he told himself. Even Andy wouldn’tcome in through the roof. There was another pressing matter. This place wouldhave a privy, wouldn’t it? There was at least a back door and that wouldinevitably lead to a back alley and, well, what is a back alley for except forsleeping tramps and the call of nature? Possibly in the same place if you werefeeling cruel.

Trev unbuckled his belt, faced a noisome wall and stared upwards nonchalantly,as a man does in these circumstances. However, most men don’t look up into theastonished faces of two birdlike women who were standing, no, perching on theroof. They screeched Awk! Awk! and flew up into the darkness.

Trev scuttled quickly and damply back into the shop. This city got bloodystranger every day.

After that, time flew past for Trev, and every second stank of sulphur. He’dseen Nutt dribbling candles, but that was at snail’s pace compared with thespeed at which the leather was cut for the ball. But that wasn’t creepy, thatwas just Nutt. What was creepy was that he didn’t measure anything. Eventually,Trev couldn’t stand it any more, and stopped leaning against the wall, pointedto one of the multi-sided little leather strips and said, ‘How long is that?’

‘One and fifteen sixteenths of an inch.’

‘How can you tell without measuring?’

‘I do measure, with my eyes. It is a skill. It can be learned.’

‘An’ that makes you worthy?’

‘Yes.’

‘An’ who judges?’

‘I do.’

‘Here we are, Mister Nutt, still warm,’ said Glang, arriving from the back ofthe shop holding something that looked like something taken from an animal thatwas now, you hoped for its own sake, dead.

‘Of course, I could do a lot better with more time,’ he continued, ‘but if youblow down this little tube… ’

Trev watched in wonder, and it occurred to him that in all his life he’d made afew candles and a lot of mess. How much was he worth?

Gloing! Gloing!

Two balls in harmony, thought Trev, but clapped as Nutt and Glang shook hands,then, while they were still admiring their handiwork, he reached behind him andslipped a dagger off the bench and into his pocket.

He wasn’t a thief. Oh, fruit off stalls, but everyone knew that didn’t count,and picking a toff’s pocket was just a case of social redistribution, everyoneknew that, too, and maybe you found something that looked lost, well, someonewould pick it up, so why not you?

Weapons got you killed, often because you were holding one. But things weregoing too far. He had heard Andy’s bones creak and Nutt had brought the man tohis knees without sweating. And there were two reasons for taking precautionsright there. One was that if you put Andy down you’d better put him out, rightout, because he would come back, blood around the corner of his mouth. And two,the worst, was that right now Nutt was more worrying than Andy. At least heknew what Andy was…

Carrying a ball each, they hurried back to the university, with Trev keeping awatchful eye on high buildings. ‘It’s amazin’ what’s turnin’ up in this city,’he said. ‘There were a couple of vampire types back there, did you know?’

‘Oh, those? They work for Ladyship. They are there for protection.’

‘Whose?’ said Trev.

‘Do not worry about them.’

‘Hah! And do you know something even stranger has happened this evening?’ saidTrev, as the university hove into sight. ‘You offered that dwarf fifteendollars and he didn’t even haggle. Like, that’s unheard of. Must be the powerof gloing!’

‘Yes, but I actually gave him twenty dollars,’ said Nutt.

‘Why? He didn’t ask for anythin’ more.’

‘No, but he did work very hard and the extra five dollars will more than repayhim for the dagger you stole while our backs were turned.’

‘I never did!’ said Trev hotly.

‘Your automatic, unthinking and spring-loaded reply is noted, Mister Trev. Aswas the sight of the dagger on the bench, shortly followed by the sight of theempty space where the dagger had been. I am not angry, because I saw you mostsensibly toss Mister Shank’s wretched cutlass over a wall and I understand yournervousness, but nevertheless I must point out that this is stealing. And so Iask you, as my friend, to take the dagger back in the morning.’

‘But that will leave ’im up by five dollars and his dagger back.’ Trev sighed.‘But at least we’ve got a few dollars each,’ he said, as they entered the backdoor of the university.

‘Yes, and then again no, Mister Trev. You will take the remaining five dollarsand this rather grubby although genuine receipt for twenty dollars to MisterStibbons, who thinks you are no good, thus making him doubt his originalassumption that you are a thief and a scallywag and assisting your progress inthis university.’

‘I’m not a—’ Trev began and stopped, honest enough to acknowledge the knife inhis coat. ‘Honestly, Nutt, you’re one of a kind, you are.’

‘Yes,’ said Nutt. ‘I am coming to that conclusion.’

WOTCHER!

The word, in huge type, shouted out from the front page of the Times, next to abig picture of Juliet glittering in micromail and smiling right at the reader.Glenda, frozen for the last fifteen seconds in the act of raising a piece oftoast to her mouth, finally bit.

Now she blinked and dropped the toast to read: Mystery model ‘Jewels’ was thetoast of an astounding fashion show at Shatta yesterday when she was the veryincarnation of micromail, the remarkable metal ‘cloth’ about which there hasbeen so much speculation in recent months and which, she confirms, Does NotChafe. She chatted happily and with fetching straightforward earthiness todignitaries to whom, this writer is certain, no one has ever said ‘Wotcher’before. They appeared to find the experience refreshing and entirely withoutchafe…

Glenda stopped reading at this point because the question ‘How much trouble arewe going to get into about this?’ was attempting to fill her whole head. Andthere was no trouble, was there? And there would not be. There couldn’t be.First, who would think that the beauty in the silver beard, like some goddessof the forge, was a cook’s assistant? And, second, there was no trouble to behad, unless someone tried to make it, in which case they would have to gothrough Glenda and Glenda would go through them, in very short order. BecauseJools was wonderful. She had to admit it. The girl brought radiant sunshine tothe page, and suddenly it was plain: it would be a crime to hide all that graceand beauty in a cellar. So what if she had a vocabulary of fewer than sevenhundred words? There were more than enough people who were stuffed tight as anegg with words, and who would want to see any of them on the front page?

Anyway, she thought, as she pulled her coat on, it would be a nine-minutewonder in any case and besides, she added to herself, it wasn’t as if anyonewould spot it was Juliet. After all, she was wearing a beard and that wasamazing, because there was no way that a woman in a beard should lookattractive, but it worked. Imagine that catching on! You’d have to spend twiceas long at the hairdresser’s. Someone’s going to think about that, she thought.

There was no sound from the Stollops’ house. She wasn’t surprised. Juliet didnot have much grasp of the idea of punctuality. Glenda popped next door to seehow the widow Crowdy was and then headed, in the drizzling rain, back to hersafe haven of the Night Kitchen. Halfway there an all but forgotten pressure inher bodice reminded her of her duty and she dared go into the Royal Bank ofAnkh-Morpork.