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 | | Unfortunately, Vimes had paid little attention to the doings of the hated class, often slipping into a world of his own, losing himself in a more comfortable, unexciting section of his subconscious. |
 | | Vimes was now twitching in his seat, his face turning from pale to pink to red and back again. |
 | | As Lord Vetinari, he couldn't allow Vimes to be an indifferent paper-pusher, but as Havelock, the quiet man who hid deep beneath the outer shell, the desire to be near that fiery soul was too great, too unforgiving. |
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