Стража! Стража!

           Not,perhaps,guiltyofanythingspecific.Justguiltyingeneralterms.

           "Mmmmmuh,"saidBrotherFingers.

           SergeantColongentlyliftedthelidofthetopbox.

           "Whatdoyoumakeofit,Sergeant?"saidVimes,steppingback.

           "Er.ItlookslikeaKlatchianHotswithanchovies,sir,"saidSergeantColonknowledgeably.

           "Imeantheman,"saidVimeswearily.

           "Nnnnn,"saidBrotherFingers.

           Colonpeeredunderthehood."Oh,Iknowhim,sir,"hesaid."Bengy’Lightfoot’Boggis,sir.He’sacapodemontyintheThieves’Guild.Iknowhimofold,sir.Slylittlebugger.UsedtoworkattheUniversity."

           "What,asawizard?"saidVimes.

           "Oddjobman,sir.Gardeningandcarpentryandthat."

           "Oh.Didhe?"

           "Can’twedosomethingforthepoorman?"saidLadyRamkin.

           Nobbysalutedsmartly."Icouldkickhiminthebollocksforyouifyoulike,m’lady."

           "Dddrrr,"saidBrotherFingers,beginningtoshakeuncontrollably,whileLadyRamkinsmiledtheiron-hardblanksmileofahigh-bornladywhoisdeterminednottoshowthatshehasunderstoodwhathasjustbeensaidtoher.

           "Puthiminthecoach,youtwo,"saidVimes."Ifit’sallrightwithyou,LadyRamkin-"

           "-Sybil-"correctedLadyRamkin.Vimesblushed,andplungedon-"itmightbeagoodideatogethimindoors.Chargehimwiththetheftofonebook,towit,TheSummoningofDragons."

           "Rightyouare,sir,"saidSergeantColon."Thepizzas’regettingcold,too.Youknowhowthecheesegoesallmankywhenitgetscold."