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The
sergeant
raised
his
head
.
His
expression
was
the
determined
expression
of
a
man
who
is
going
to
see
it
through
.
"
Yes
,
sir
,
"
he
said
.
"
Thirty
dollars
a
month
.
It
’
s
not
right
.
We
think
-
"
he
licked
his
lips
and
glanced
behind
him
at
the
other
two
,
who
were
making
vague
encouraging
motions
-
"
we
think
a
basic
rate
of
,
er
,
thirty
-
five
dollars
?
A
month
?
"
He
stared
at
the
Patrician
’
s
stony
expression
.
"
With
increments
as
per
rank
?
We
thought
five
dollars
.
"
He
licked
his
lips
again
,
unnerved
by
the
Patrician
’
s
expression
.
"
We
won
’
t
go
below
four
,
"
he
said
.
"
And
that
’
s
flat
.
Sorry
,
your
Highness
,
but
there
it
is
.
"
The
Patrician
glanced
again
at
Vimes
’
s
impassive
face
,
then
looked
back
at
the
rank
.
"
That
’
s
if
?
"
he
said
.
Nobby
whispered
in
Colon
’
s
ear
and
then
darted
back
.
The
sweating
sergeant
gripped
his
helmet
as
though
it
was
the
only
real
thing
in
the
world
.
"
There
was
another
thing
,
your
reverence
,
"
he
said
.
"
Ah
.
"
The
Patrician
smiled
knowingly
.
"
There
’
s
the
kettle
.
It
wasn
’
t
much
good
anyway
,
and
then
Errol
et
it
.
It
was
nearly
two
dollars
.
"
He
swallowed
.
"
We
could
do
with
a
new
kettle
,
if
it
’
s
all
the
same
,
your
lordship
.
"
