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           Hisexpressionwasthedeterminedexpressionofamanwhoisgoingtoseeitthrough.

           "Yes,sir,"hesaid."Thirtydollarsamonth.It’snotright.Wethink-"helickedhislipsandglancedbehindhimattheothertwo,whoweremakingvagueencouragingmotions-"wethinkabasicrateof,er,thirty-fivedollars?Amonth?"HestaredatthePatrician’sstonyexpression."Withincrementsasperrank?Wethoughtfivedollars."

           Helickedhislipsagain,unnervedbythePatrician’sexpression."Wewon’tgobelowfour,"hesaid."Andthat’sflat.Sorry,yourHighness,butthereitis."

           ThePatricianglancedagainatVimes’simpassiveface,thenlookedbackattherank.

           "That’sif?"hesaid.

           NobbywhisperedinColon’searandthendartedback.Thesweatingsergeantgrippedhishelmetasthoughitwastheonlyrealthingintheworld.

           "Therewasanotherthing,yourreverence,"hesaid.

           "Ah."ThePatriciansmiledknowingly.

           "There’sthekettle.Itwasn’tmuchgoodanyway,andthenErroletit.Itwasnearlytwodollars."Heswallowed."Wecoulddowithanewkettle,ifit’sallthesame,yourlordship."

           ThePatricianleanedforward,grippingthearmsofhischair.

           "Iwanttobeclearaboutthis,"hesaidcoldly."Arewetobelievethatyouareaskingforapettywageincreaseandadomesticutensil?"

           CarrotwhisperedinColon’sotherear.

           Colonturnedtwobulging,watery-rimmedeyestothedignitaries.Therimofhishelmetwaspassingthroughhisfingerslikeamillwheel.