Moist had been afraid of this, ever since Adora convinced him to buy a house on Scoone Avenue. He looked out into the backyard, where Commander Vimes's son was playing with the goblin children that lived on the roof.
Crossly entered the room and announced,
"Lady Sybil Vimes."
Moist sprang up from the sofa.
"Terribly sorry, your grace—"
Lady Sybil just laughed. "It's not your fault, Postmaster. Young Sam needs children his own age to play with."
She joined him at the window. "Isn't life amazing? I couldn't have imagined any of this five years ago."
"Me neither," admitted Moist.