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"
What
d
’
you
mean
,
sensitive
?
"
said
Vimes
,
watching
the
claw
travel
slowly
towards
the
long
,
horse
-
like
face
.
"
A
really
incredible
sense
of
taste
.
They
’
re
so
,
well
,
chemically
orientated
.
"
"
You
mean
it
can
probably
taste
gold
?
"
whispered
Vimes
,
watching
the
crown
being
carefully
licked
.
"
Oh
,
certainly
.
And
smell
it
.
"
Vimes
wondered
what
the
chances
were
of
the
crown
being
made
of
gold
.
Not
high
,
he
decided
.
Gold
foil
over
copper
,
perhaps
.
Enough
to
fool
human
beings
.
And
then
he
wondered
what
someone
’
s
reaction
would
be
if
they
were
offered
sugar
which
turned
out
,
once
you
’
d
put
three
spoonfuls
in
your
coffee
,
to
be
salt
.
The
dragon
removed
the
claw
from
its
mouth
in
one
graceful
movement
and
caught
the
high
priest
,
who
was
just
sneaking
away
,
a
blow
which
knocked
him
high
into
the
air
.
When
he
was
screaming
at
the
top
of
the
arc
the
great
mouth
came
around
and
-
"
Gosh
!
"
said
Lady
Ramkin
.
There
was
a
groan
from
the
watchers
.
"
The
temperature
of
the
thing
!
"
said
Vines
.
"
I
mean
,
nothing
left
!
Just
a
wisp
of
smoke
!
"
There
was
another
movement
in
the
rubble
.
Another
figure
pulled
itself
upright
and
leaned
dazedly
against
a
broken
spar
.
