‘He was my dad, sir.’
‘Good grief. Old Sobriety’s son? Howis the old devil?’
‘Dunno, sir, what with him being dead.’
‘Oh dear. How long ago?’
‘These past thirty years,’ said Shawn.
‘But you don’t look any older than twen-’ Ponder began. Ridcully elbowed him sharply in the ribcage.
‘This is the countryside,’ he hissed. ‘People do things differently here. And more often.' (LL)