'And how was that for you?' said Moist, stepping out into the sunlight.

'Do I detect a note of peevishness?' said Adora Belle.

'Well, my plans for today did not include dropping in to chat with a three-hundred-year-old letch.'

'I think you mean lych, and anyway he was a ghost, not a corpse.'

'He was letching!'

'All in his mind,' said Adora Belle. 'Your mind, too.'

'Normally you go crazy if people try to patronize you!'

'True. But most people aren't able to translate a language so old that even golems can hardly understand a tenth of it. Get a talent like that and it could be you getting the girls when you are three centuries dead.'